


sitting on the fences

by bbyfruit



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: All The Tropes, Coffee Shops, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hate to Love, M/M, Texting, jonas is the best bro on earth, mikael has more than half a second of dialogue, mikael is adorable and jonas hates it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbyfruit/pseuds/bbyfruit
Summary: Sighing, Mikael shoves his hands his pockets. “Doesn’t hating me get exhausting?”“I don’t hate you. We have a truce, remember?”“You’re still acting like you hate me,” Mikael says tiredly.“I don’t hate you,” Jonas repeats. “I just… don’t trust you.”





	1. one.

**SYNG**

The first time that Jonas meets Mikael, it’s watching Isak’s fist in his face and watching all hell break loose before him. And it’s stupid as hell, but Isak is his best friend, and Jonas will always back him, so he throws himself into the fight with his full body, yelling and shouting and letting Even pull a bleeding Isak out of the way.

The first time that Jonas touches Mikael, it’s out of anger. Jonas really doesn’t entirely understand what happens, but there he is with Mikael’s hands on his forearms, tight enough to bruise, both of Jonas’s hands slamming hard into Mikael’s shoulders. It’s a fight. And then it’s Mahdi grabbing his arm and stepping in front of him and it’s over, the fight’s over, and all Jonas knows is that Mikael has hurt Isak and hurt Even and there’s anger boiling deep in his gut. 

They’re in the hospital waiting room the first time that Jonas hears Mikael’s name.

“Even,” he says seriously, learning over Isak and talking low. “I’m not going to force you to say anything, but what the fuck did we get into?”

Even’s running his hands through his hair, breathing shakily, not taking his eyes off of the blood that’s drying on Isak’s cheek. “I - fuck, Mikael just…” 

“Was that the one that Isak…”

“Huh?” Even finally looks up at Jonas.

“The one I hit? Or tried to hit. Yeah. That’s Mikael,” Isak groans. His eyes are still shut and he’s gingerly holding his nose. 

Jonas looks over at Even for confirmation, or more information, or anything, really, but Even looks even more out of it than Isak, so Jonas shakes his head and addresses Isak. “How much trouble are we in? Yakuza levels, or what?”

Isak winces. Jonas isn’t sure if it’s the pain or the memory. “Yakuza was only that bad because of William,” Isak points out. “So, way less than that.”

“Okay,” Jonas says. He’s backtracking, mapping it all out in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong and how they ended up here in the hospital, knuckles bruised and Isak’s eye already starting to blacken, Even looking at Isak like he can’t see anything else, Magnus silent for once in his life. The whole timeline is a mess. When he pushes away all the chaos, the yelling and spit and fists, only one thing remains: it all started with Mikael. 

When they call Isak’s name, Even helps him up and brings him over to the nurse, explaining that Isak got hurt and no, they don’t want anything to do with the police.

Jonas turns over to Mahdi and Magnus the instant that the other two are out of earshot.

“Do you guys know this Mikael kid? Like, what the fuck did he do to Even that made Isak so angry?” 

Jonas knows Isak like the back of his hand, has known him like that for the majority of their lives, and he knows that Isak can be petty and overdramatic, but he can’t get over the look on Even’s face when he saw the boys walk in. That was more than dramatics. And Jonas loves Isak and Isak loves Even and therefore Jonas loves Even, like a brother, like his best friend’s boyfriend and his own friend as well, and Jonas isn’t a hateful person but this fucking Mikael kid hurt his friend and hurt his best friend and that’s unforgivable. 

Magnus shakes his head and Mahdi shrugs. 

Jonas is suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline took a toll on him, and without Isak here to worry about, his mind is stuck on Mikael and all the questions that surround him. “You guys can go home,” Jonas tells Mags and Mahdi. “I’ll stay until they come back and then text you what they say.”

“Are you okay though, man?” Mahdi asks, leaning his elbows on his knees. Jonas blinks. He hasn’t actually thought about it, really, too caught up in Isak and Even and fucking  _ Mikael _ to worry about himself. 

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “yeah, I’m fine. Just fucking pissed off.” The mother near them shoots him a look and he cringes. 

“Just try to chill out,” Mahdi offers unhelpfully. “Isak’s going to be fine.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think his nose is broken or anything,” Magnus chimes in.

“True. But yeah, you guys go grab food or something. I’ll text you.”

Mahdi looks at him skeptically but stands up anyways, Magnus glancing back and forth between the two of them. “You sure?” Mahdi asks.

“I’m sure,” Jonas says, nodding back at him.    


“Okay,” Mahdi gestures for Magnus to get up and he scrambles to his feet. “Keep us updated, yeah?”

Jonas nods again and watches them leave. He’s alone, finally, and he breathes out, shifts in the uncomfortable chair, and pulls out his phone. He needs to find out who the hell Mikael is.

But by the time Even returns with a considerably less bloody Isak in tow, Jonas is frustrated and Mikael is still a mystery.

“All good?” Jonas asks Even, standing up to meet them and shaking off all the thoughts of Mikael that still clutter at the front of his mind. Even looks a lot more at ease, relieved, actually, even though he has Isak’s hand in a death grip. He looks more like himself. 

“Yeah, uh, it’s not broken but there’s going to be some bruising. We did get some pain pills out of it at least,” Even answers with a smile that isn’t as easy as it usually is, but it’s there, and Jonas nods.

“Whoo,” Isak says weakly.

Even snorts at that. “He’s already had some,” he tells Jonas before tugging at Isak’s hand. “Let’s go home, babe. Jonas, did the boys leave?”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you guys home,” Jonas says. 

“You don’t have to walk us -”

“Even,” Jonas cuts in, “let me do this.”

It takes a second, but Even nods, seemingly giving in, and they’re on their way. They walk in silence. Isak is too out of it, leaning into Even’s side, and Even is just staring at the ground in front of them. A big part of Jonas wants to ask about Mikael, push Even for an answer, but he knows that would be crossing a line. There’s something huge just under the surface here, something to do with who Even is and what he went through before Jonas ever even met him, and it’s his shit to share on his own, so Jonas stays quiet. He keeps his mouth shut and hopes Even can’t hear the thoughts that are deafening in his head.

It’s two days later before he remembers Sana. Two days of turning everything over in his head, unanswered texts to Isak on his phone, two days of typing  _ mikael _ into his search bar and then deleting it before he hits the enter key. 

How the fuck did he forget Sana was there? She must have gotten lost in the midst of everyone else’s drama. 

Hands typing fast, he flips over to Facebook and finds Sana’s name.

**Jonas Noah Vasquez** : Hi Sana, do you have time to talk?

She’d been there with her hand grazing Isak’s face and she’d been there before, right in the middle of it, yelling someone’s name, but Jonas can’t remember who she’d been grabbing. 

**Sana Bakkoush:** About Friday?

**Jonas Noah Vasquez:** Yeah, how do you know those guys?

**Sana Bakkoush:** Elias is my brother

It must have been Elias that she was yelling at, then, Jonas realizes. He chews on his lip.

**Jonas Noah Vasquez:** And Mikael?

**Sana Bakkoush:** He’s friends with Elias

**Jonas Noah Vasquez:** Thanks

He opens a new tab and finds Elias easily, his Facebook and his Youtube, and Jonas almost pumps his fist in the air when he sees Mikael on the screen. And it’s two in the morning when he realizes that he’s been through all the videos multiple times, and he can’t even hear the other boys anymore, just Mikael. Mikael’s face when Even’s mentioned. Mikael’s tone of voice when he says Even’s name. 

**EVA’S**

The second time that Jonas sees Mikael, outside of a computer screen, that is, they’re at Eva’s birthday. He’s walking in with Mahdi, the two of them holding carefully wrapped gifts. Mahdi’s halfway through analyzing the new strain he’d smoked when Jonas stops, freezes in place, fist clenching tight enough to wrinkle the wrapping paper.

“The fuck’s wrong?” Mahdi asks, looking him up and down.

Jonas grits his teeth. “Why is he here?” 

Following his gaze to where Mikael is, Mahdi shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re all here,” he points out. 

Jonas hasn’t even noticed the other boys. He blinks, taking his eyes off of Mikael long enough to look around and see the rest of their little group hanging out. He knows them from the YouTube channel - Adam and Mutasim are joking around with Chris, Yousef is talking to Sana, and Elias is tucked in a corner with Even, both of them serious and withdrawn. 

He spots Isak easily once Mikael isn’t the only thing he’s focused on. Isak’s sitting next to Magnus and Vilde, watching them make out and talk to each other with a sort of disgusted fascination, and Jonas slides into the chair next to him. 

“Hey,” Isak says casually. Jonas raises his eyebrows at him, because honestly, why the fuck is everybody acting like nothing happened? Isak looks back at him quizzically, and they’ve been friends long enough that when Jonas widens his eyes and tilts his head in Mikael’s direction, Isak knows what he’s asking and rolls his own eyes at Jonas.

“That’s between them and Even,” Isak states. 

Jonas stares at him. “That’s… not what you were saying a few weeks ago.”

Isak blushes a bit then, and Jonas knows that he’s called him out. “I’m staying out of it,” Isak says, sounding suspiciously defensive. “And I’m not going to start shit at Eva’s birthday, so.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jonas says. He draws in a sharp breath and Isak glances at him sideways.

Jonas doesn’t relax the entire night. Eventually, Even comes over to grab Isak’s hands and drag him to dance. He’s not, like, playing croquet with Elias and Mikael and the others or anything that drastic, but he looks a little better. He looks like there’s a chance. And Jonas is grateful for that, because he loves Even, but Even’s too forgiving, too full of love and too open, and Jonas is not about to let him get hurt again, so he’s wary. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Mikael. He sits on the sidelines and observes.

“Jonas Noah Vasquez,” Eskild yells dramatically at one point, dropping into the seat beside Jonas. He lowers his voice in Jonas’s ear. “Do you have a crush?”

Jonas snorts. “What?” 

“Mikael,” Eskild whispers, sloppy drunk and smiling. “You’ve been staring at him all night. He’s fucking cute. A little young for me, of course, but  _ perfect _ for you.”

“What the fuck, Eskild?” Jonas is too shocked to laugh. “No, I - yeah, he’s cute, but I’m staring at him because I hate him.”

Eskild sits back in his seat and throws his arm behind Jonas. “Why do you hate him if you think he’s cute?”

“Because,” Jonas says slowly, enunciating clearly because it seems like Eskild doesn’t know what’s going on, “he hurt Even. And Isak.”

“But he’s so cute,” Eskild whines. It’s about then that Jonas stops listening. He goes back to glaring at Mikael from across Eva’s yard, sulking and sipping his drink angrily. 

When they’re all gathered around Eva, Jonas is finally close enough to hear Mikael’s voice. It’s different when it’s not giggling in his earbuds off of videos on his phone. It’s rougher, here, and Jonas is singing along but he’s got one eye still on Mikael as they spin and dance and make Eva laugh. Not starting shit at Eva’s birthday, Jonas reminds himself. It’s hard, though, when Mikael looks so bright and happy, a giant smile on his face and he’s glowing, and he really shouldn’t be, because Even is still reserved and Isak is still resting his hand on Even’s arm like he’s comforting him. It isn’t fair. Mikael shouldn’t get to be so fucking happy.

**THE BAKKOUSH’S**

The third time that he meets Mikael, it’s at Sana’s Eid party. His heart stutters in his chest and it’s possibly the worst feeling that he’s ever fucking felt. It’s anger and that same distaste he’s had for Mikael every single time he sees him, except this time it’s mixed with shame and another layer of self-hatred because Mikael looks actually really good with his hair tied back like that. 

“Did you try this?” Isak says at his shoulder. Jonas jumps.

“What?”

Isak raises an eyebrow. “This chicken thing. It’s really good.” He gestures at his plate and offers it to Jonas.

“I’m good, actually. Thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” Isak shrugs. “I’m going to go sit with Mahdi and Mags if you want to join, though.”

Jonas shuffles along the table and just starts throwing random foods on his plate, not really paying attention to anything because he can’t stop being entirely aware of Mikael’s every move. He’s moving around the party, thanking Sana’s parents and wishing them Eid Mubarak, telling them he loves the food before moving to talk with Eva, joking like he always does with her because she’ll always have a special place in his heart. And he’s even talking to Mutasim, and telling Mahdi that the weed was really good, and Isak’s saying something about Marrakech, but he’s still not focused. He’s on autopilot. There’s some sense in him that always knows exactly where Mikael is, and he’s boiling with anger at Mikael and at himself. The whole thing just feels so fucking  _ unresolved _ .

“You look someone killed your puppy and then shat on its grave,” Magnus says tactlessly when Jonas sits down next to the rest of them. He shrugs.

“I’m chill.”

“No, you’re not,” Isak says, leaning over to see what’s on Jonas’s plate. “Jonas hates Mikael,” he informs everyone.

“I don’t  _ hate _ him,” Jonas argues at the same time that Magnus says, “huh?”

“I talked to him,” Mahdi offers. “He’s super chill.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Fine, you strongly dislike him. Whatever you’re calling it.”

“Strongly dislike,” Jonas repeats slowly. He doesn’t have to search at all before his eyes find Mikael in the crowd. He’s laughing at something that Adam’s telling him, the two of them leaning into each other, and Jonas can’t help but notice that Mikael’s not the kind of guy who laughs with his hand over his mouth, not the kind of guy who holds back. He laughs loud and bright. Jonas crosses his arms slowly as he watches Mikael, resting back in his seat and squinting. 

Yeah, Jonas kind of hates him.

**KAFFEBRENNERIET**

Jonas is waiting in line at KB on his way back from a gaming marathon at Magnus’s the fourth time he meets Mikael. He doesn’t necessarily like it, because fuck capitalism and everything, but also fuck how tired he is, so he’s here, in line and pissed off about it. He’s lost too many rounds of games with guns to care.

In front of him, there’s a businessman in a suit that looks too big for his body, and he orders a coffee that’s too big to be healthy, and takes a call on a phone that’s too big to fit in his hands, stepping away from the register without a glance to the girl behind the counter. She spins around and runs her hands through her hair. Glancing at the line behind Jonas with wild eyes, he feels bad for her, but then she says, “Mik, can you  _ please  _ take the register?” and Jonas is staring at her blankly for a second without realizing what’s happening. And then Mikael hustles over, tying an apron behind his back. 

“Hi,” he says cheerily, staring down at the counter, “what can I get for...”

He slows to a stop when he makes eye contact with Jonas. “Oh,” he breathes. “Jonas.”

Hearing Mikael whisper his name like that does things to him. Namely, his face heats up with anger because Mikael has no right to even know his name, let alone say it in a way that he finds fucking  _ attractive,  _ because Mikael, above everything, beyond his face and his voice and everything,  _ everything _ , he’s still the guy that fucked over Even. The guy that hurt Even. 

“You are Jonas, right?” Mikael asks. He’s leaning across the counter a little bit, looking more nervous than he’s ever looked in the videos Jonas has seen of him, or the previous times he’s seen him in real life. 

“Yeah,” Jonas finally chokes out.

Mikael shuffles his feet. “Uh.” He glances at the clock and then back to the line behind Jonas. “Do you… My shift ends in ten minutes. Would you mind sticking around and maybe talking? Not that you have to,” he adds hastily. “I just would really appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Jonas says dully. He’s shocked, kind of, by the whole manifestation of this boy he’s only really gotten to know over a computer screen, or a phone screen. At this point, it’s been weeks that he’s been checking the YouTube channel for updates, rewatching old ones, trying desperately to avoid asking Isak and Even questions about it. About Mikael. And this, Jonas realizes, could be his only opportunity for answers.

A cautious grin splits Mikael’s face in two. “Okay,” he parrots back. “Um, coffee?”

“Just black, please.” Jonas sifts through his pockets for money and spills it on the counter.

Mikael nods. “You’ll wait, though?” He sounds annoyingly hopeful.

“Yeah.”

Jonas waits for his coffee and waits for Mikael, watching him take orders, always smiling even though he keeps side-eyeing Jonas, chatting with customers charmingly. When someone slides his cup over, Jonas takes it and sips at it, and it burns his tongue and he doesn’t sit down, just stands and watches Mikael. It’s not long before Mikael is nodding to him and slipping to the back of the shop to, presumably, clock out. 

“Hey,” Mikael says. He’s wearing a t-shirt and black jeans and he looks like a jerk. “Do you want to go somewhere to talk?”

“Uh. We can just sit by the window,” Jonas offers. Mikael looks relieved and he nods back. Jonas flops into the seat and knocks back another sip of coffee, and Mikael drums his fingers nervously. Jonas isn’t really sure how to treat Mikael, how to connect the boy he fought with to the boy the watched online to the boy who’s sitting next to him right now.

“What did you want to talk about?” Jonas asks warily.

Mikael shifts. “I just know that you hate me, and, uh, I really don’t like the idea that people hate me,” he admits, smiling that stupidly bright smile but fuck him, because that isn’t going to work on Jonas.

He fixes an unimpressed look on his face and Mikael’s smile falters.

“Look,” Mikael says, leaning in like he’s about to tell Jonas a secret, “I feel like you hate me because of the whole fight mess.”

“And because you hurt Even,” Jonas adds. Mikael winces. 

“And because I hurt Even. But I also feel like it was a huge misunderstanding and I’ve talked to Even since then, and I’ve talked to Isak too. So they don’t hate me. It’s just… you.” He looks at Jonas expectantly. 

Jonas knits his eyebrows together. “You talked to Isak?”

“Yeah. He’s nice,” Mikael says.

“He’s my best friend,” Jonas corrects Mikael, narrowing his eyes. That smile is  _ not  _ working. “Which means that it’s my job to back him up, even when he doesn’t think he needs it.”

“Okay, I get that. But shouldn’t you trust Isak’s judgement?” Mikael asks as he cocks his head to the side. And that, actually, crosses a line, because Mikael doesn’t get to tell Jonas how to be Isak’s best friend, and Jonas straightens his back.

“I don’t trust Isak’s judgment at all. He makes a lot of stupid mistakes.”

Mikael smiles that fucking awful smile again. “We all do.” 

And Mikael might be older than him, but that feels just downright patronizing. Jonas sighs. “Isak’s been my best friend for ten years. We’ve been through everything together, and he’s been through hell and back. You know who’s also been through a lot of shit? His boyfriend, who also happens to be a fucking great person and one of my closest friends. And I love both of them, but they can both be really fucking dumb, so, yeah, I’m going to watch out for them because neither of them deserve to be hurt more.”

“And you think I’m going to hurt them?” Mikael challenges.

“You already have.”

It’s then that Mikael winces and Jonas knows that he’s got to him, feels a sick sense of pride at how he’s visibly affected. “I did,” Mikael whispers. He looks down at his hands. “I fucked up my best friend and it’s not okay. But it’s between me and Even and we’re working it out, so, no offense, but it’s not really any of your business.”

“Bullshit,” Jonas says immediately, shaking his head. “It became my business the instant you involved my friend and my best friend and the instant you put your fucking hands on me in that fight.”

Mikael draws in an audible breath. “Okay. Okay, I’ll give you that. That fight was a mess and I’m sorry about that. But Isak’s your best friend, which you keep reminding me, and the way you feel about him is the way I used to feel about Even. I love Even, always have, always will, because he’ll always be my best friend. I made a mistake and I can’t go back and fix it, but I’m trying. And I want to protect Even as much as you want to protect Isak.”

“I doubt that.”

“Fine,” Mikael says, slamming his hands against the table. “I’m not going to change your mind, obviously, so whatever.”

“Yeah.”

Mikael deflates a little under Jonas’s gaze, loses a little of the anger, curls his shoulders in and sighs. “For what it’s worth,” he says weakly, “I think Isak’s an amazing kid. He’s really funny and sweet and he loves Even, and he’s, like, way better for him than Sonja ever was, and Even loves him.”

“I know all of that,” Jonas snaps.

“Can you try to listen instead of just jumping at my throat?” Mikael asks. His voice is thin and tired, stretched out in exhaustion.

Jonas narrows his eyes and shrugs.

“First of all, you don’t know shit about what happened between me and Even, so you can’t hate me for that.” Mikael leans back in his seat and traces his fingers along the countertop in little patterns, looping and circling.

Taking a second to think about it, Jonas takes another sip of coffee. “So tell me.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Jonas says, nodding and raising his eyebrows. “Tell me and I’ll make my own judgements.”

Mikael stares at him. He blinks wide eyes and seems to consider it, face guarded. Jonas waits. “How much do you already know about Even?” Mikael asks. “Because I’m not about to spill all his secrets to you.”

“I know he’s a good friend. I know he’s pansexual, I know he’s bipolar, I know he loves movies and Isak and dogs and good weed, I know there was shit with Sonja and I know he left Bakka because there was shit there. I don’t ask questions about it. So,” Jonas finishes, raising his eyebrows and waiting for Mikael to fill in the blanks.

He doesn’t. Instead, he nods, tucks a lock of hair behind his ear, and asks, “Did Isak ever come out to you?”

“What?” Jonas is thrown, unsure how this relates.

“Did he come out to you?” Mikael repeats. “And, like, how?” Mikael says, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh.” Jonas shoots him a skeptical look. “He’d been acting really weird and ditching us and then he just told me that he had a thing with Even. Why?”

“Okay,” Mikael nods. He looks down again. “My best friend came out to me by kissing me.”

Jonas pauses with his coffee cup halfway raised to his mouth.

Mikael continues, speaking quiet and fast, eyes still cast downward. “And I was dealing with my own shit, and I was freaking out, and that’s not an excuse but I ended up saying some things to him that I really, really, really ended up regretting. But we’ve gone through the whole thing and did the whole crying part and that helped and it’s okay, and it won’t be the same that it used to be but that’s okay too.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, neither of them looking at the other. “Shit happens,” Jonas says eventually, unhelpfully, but it’s the only thing he can think of. He admits when he’s wrong, and it’s not often, but this time, he’s wrong and Mikael’s right. Jonas doesn’t know anything about what happened between them. Mikael’s words haven’t changed his mind, exactly, but he’s able to take a step back and see that there’s a bigger picture here. See that there might be shit going on in the background, shit that Jonas doesn’t know about and shit that Mikael isn’t going to tell him right now. 

Mikael laughs, just lightly and it makes Jonas’s heart thud uncomfortably for a single beat. “Fair.” Mikael shifts in his seat again. “Look,” he says, tone more serious again. Jonas misses the laughter. It seemed more like the Mikael from the videos, the only Mikael that’s ever seemed, well, likable. “You love Isak and I love Even and they love each other,” he smiles. “Which means that we’re, like, connected. Truce?”

It’s a few seconds of Jonas just staring at the hand Mikael’s offered him before Mikael groans a bit in exasperation. “You don’t have to like me. Just don’t hate me.”

“I don’t like you,” Jonas informs him. Might as well be honest. “Truce.”

Mikael smiles and Jonas doesn’t, but their hands touch and something really fucking weird happens in Jonas’s stomach.

**ISAK AND EVEN’S**

The fifth time that Jonas meets Mikael, and the first time under The Truce, it’s at Isak and Even’s apartment during a pregame. The boys are all there except for Mahdi, yelling over each other and passing a bong back and forth, and Isak’s laying across Even’s lap on the bed. He’s throwing Cheetos into Magnus’s mouth when the doorbell rings.

“Off, off,” Even says excitedly, shoving at Isak. 

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Isak whines. He rolls over on the bed and sits up to get a better angle at Mags.

Even flings open the door and says, “Hi! Come in!” and Elias and Mikael walk in. Elias pulls Even into a hug, both of them grinning happily and comfortably, but Mikael hangs back. His eyes fall on Jonas and he smiles.  _ Shit _ , he thinks, and flicks on his lighter to take another hit from the bong. He’s way too sober to be dealing with the whole Mikael situation.

“Slow the fuck down!” Magnus yells at Isak, Cheetos hitting his face as he tries to keep up, diving around from his place cross-legged on the floor. He almost takes out their television with one wild swipe of his neck. 

Isak scoffs. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep up.”

“Is,” Jonas says, hitting his hand on Isak’s leg but still looking at Mikael, “hit?”

“Yes, please,” Isak answers gratefully, reaching his hand down to Jonas on the floor, who passes him the bong and listens as he inhales. Magnus picks the Cheetos that he missed catching and eats them.

“Is he… eating off the ground?” Elias asks, kicking off his shoes.

Even claps his hands. “Magnus! No. Bad.”

“He’s not a puppy, babe,” Isak says. He exhales for a second time, long and slow, and then nods a greeting at Elias and Mikael. 

“He’s eating Cheetos off the fucking floor, though,” Even points out. He throws himself back onto the bed, stretched out at the head with Isak sat up closer to the foot, Jonas on the floor and leaning against the mattress near Isak’s legs. “Make yourselves at home, guys,” he says to Mikael and Elias. The two of them look a little weirded out by the scene they’ve walked into, Mikael more than Elias. “Beer in the kitchen, weed right here, Cheetos in Isak’s lap and also, apparently, on the floor.”

“Cool,” Elias says with a smile. “I’m gonna grab a beer, then. Mik? You want?”

Mikael shakes his head and glances over at Even, and then shifts his eyes nervously to Jonas.  _ Truce _ , Jonas reminds himself. 

“You can sit next to me,” Jonas says. It comes out sour, but he means it, tilts his head to the side at the floor beside him and Mikael smiles at him and folds his legs up, landing heavy.

“Oh, shit.” Magnus widens his eyes. “You guys like each other now?”

“Yes,” Mikael says cheerily, and the same time as Jonas says, “No.”

There’s silence. Magnus winces dramatically and glances at Isak, pulling a face. Elias is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, taking a long, long, sip of his drink.

“Anyways,” Isak coughs awkwardly, breaking the silence, “do you want Even to give you guys the tour?”

Even twists to look at him. “There are literally only three rooms.”

“Babe,” Isak says, gritting his teeth with a pointed nod back at Even, “you can give a tour.”

Elias, Mikael, Jonas, and Magnus all pretend not to see the entire silent conversation that’s going on between Even and Isak, loaded glances and eyebrow twitches, Isak narrowing his eyes.

“Fine,” Even finally gives in. “Bedroom. Isak’s shitty video games. Wall of art. Table. Kitchen. Bathroom over there.”

“You didn’t even get up!” Isak complains. 

Mikael shakes his head and laughs, the motion making the mattress behind Jonas shiver. “That was weak as fuck.”

“You two,” Even says, pointing a finger at Mikael and then prodding the back of Isak’s neck, “do not get to gang up on me now.” 

“You and Jonas gang up on me all the fucking time, so payback’s a bitch,” Isak retorts.

Jonas takes another hit. “This is true. But you deserve it.”

“Even deserves it too,” Mikael says, twitching his lips up at Jonas and bumping their shoulders together. Jonas almost drops the goddamn bong at the contact. 

Magnus squawks. “That was so  _ friendly _ , what the fuck?”

“Eat your floor Cheetos and shut the hell up,” Jonas says, narrowing his eyes. Magnus frowns.

“You guys clean the floors,” Mags defends, and Isak shakes his head quickly.

“No, we literally don’t,” he says incredulously.

“Oh. Well. Just keep throwing them, then.”

Isak starts throwing and it’s not long before it turns into a competition with rules, sweatshirts marking places on the floor, Isak tossing into Magnus’s mouth and Even tossing to Elias. And it ends up with Mikael and Jonas just sitting there, watching, and it feels heavy between them, and Jonas knows that Mikael’s about to say something before he does.

“Should we play?” he asks with a smile that’s half mischievous and half charming.

Jonas ducks his head. “Nah, Isak gets really fucking competitive, so I stay out of it.”

“You’re fucking cheating!” Isak screams, further proving Jonas’s point and he sticks his hand towards the other four boys as if to say  _ see? _

“You think there are rules here?” Even asks. He doesn’t stop throwing the Cheetos and Elias doesn’t stop catching them, whereas Isak keeps hitting Magnus in the forehead or the cheek or somewhere that really isn’t close to his open mouth.

“We could make a good team, though,” Mikael says lowly. He smiles again and Jonas is nothing but suspicious. If he didn’t know better, it’d be flirting, which means it’s probably just another attempt Mikael’s making to force Jonas not to hate him. 

Jonas kind of glares at him. “What makes you think that?”

“We’re the chillest out of this entire group. Like, we could actually focus and win this thing.” He’s got a point. Elias is bouncing up and down on his feet, Magnus nearly throwing himself across the room, Isak in the midst of throwing a temper tantrum and Even laughing at him. It’s loud and messy and typical.

“No,” Jonas says shortly. Mikael’s face falls for a second and then he collects himself back together, grinning again. He’s about to say something else when Jonas cuts in. “I shook on a truce, not on a fucking team.”

“Fine. We’ll referee, then.” Mikael smiles. Jonas narrows his eyes at the use of  _ we _ , but then Mikael raises his voice and says, “Even, you’re cheating.”

Isak crows happily. 

“How am I cheating?” he asks, shocked. Elias doesn’t even close his mouth, like a baby bird, waiting for food. “Explain how I can cheat at this game.”

“You’ve been slowly pushing back the marker for Isak’s place so he’s farther away than you,” Mikael points out smugly.

“Fuck me,” Even mumbles. 

‘I’m breaking up with you,” Isak announces, and Mikael laughs again, like he’s lighting up the space beside Jonas and Jonas can feel the heat radiating off of him. “And this game is over.”

Magnus surges up and wraps Elias in a hug, boisterous as always, saying, “Good game, man, good game.” Isak’s still glaring at Even.

“We would have won, you know,” Mikael says in Jonas’s ear. He smiles innocently. Jonas can see it - Mikael thinks he’s winning now, winning Jonas over. 

“Truce,” Jonas mutters. He’s not sure if he’s reminding himself or Mikael at this point, but Mikael looks down with that smile on his face. “We’re not friends.”

Mikael hums a little, nodding his head, and then he says, “We will be. That’s my talent, you know. Throwing Cheetos and making friends.”

It’s probably better that Jonas doesn’t answer then, because he’s not sure what would have come out of his mouth. 

**JONAS’S**  

Elias is shitfaced drunk and nobody knows how or why, but Mikael and Even drag him out of the party and prop him up against a tree outside, and Isak bends down next to him.  

“Can he stay with you guys?” Mikael asks Even seriously. 

Even shakes his head, looking sad and helpless, and he says, weakly, “We really don’t have the room. You?” 

“My parents, Ev.”

“Oh. Shit, right. Yeah.” Even runs his hands through his hair nervously, looking down at Elias, who’s letting his head loll onto Isak’s shoulder. 

“You lived with Eskild, right?” Elias slurs. Isak looks at Mikael with concern in his eyes.

“He can come home with me,” Jonas finds himself saying. “My moms aren’t home tonight, and neither is my sister. He can sleep it off on the couch.”

Mikael looks at Even as if for confirmation, and that pisses Jonas off, because he’s offering and he’s standing  _ right there  _ and it’s his house that Elias is going to crash in. 

“We can walk him there,” Even nods. Isak whispers something to Elias and he stumbles up, leaning heavily on Isak, and Mikael and Even both rush to his side, leaving Jonas standing alone on the sidewalk. 

Isak turns his head to Jonas. “You sure this is okay?”

Jonas shrugs in response and they start walking, or, with Elias in the middle, more like falling. Mikael backs off and lets Even and Isak half carry him, ends up walking beside Jonas, strides matching, shoes hitting the concrete dull and rhythmic. 

“I’m sorry about this,” Mikael says quietly. “Thank you.”

Jonas shakes his head, even though it’s dark enough that he doesn’t think that Mikael can see it. “I’m not doing this for  _ you, _ I’m doing it for Elias.” 

Sighing, Mikael shoves his hands his pockets. “Doesn’t hating me get exhausting?”

“I don’t hate you. We have a truce, remember?”

“You’re still acting like you hate me,” Mikael says tiredly. 

“I don’t hate you,” Jonas repeats. “I just… don’t trust you.” 

Mikael’s silent beside him, and in the quiet, Jonas thinks he can hear Isak’s phone ringing, which is confirmed when Isak shakes his head and says, “Fuck, Sana’s not answering.” 

“It’s not the first time he’s pulled this,” Mikael speaks up. “He’ll be okay.” 

Isak looks back at Mikael unconvinced, but tucks his phone back into his pocket with his free hand and adjust his shoulder, digging it up into Elias’s armpit, and Elias slumps into the support. 

“Shit, I don’t know how long I can do this,” Even gasps, holding most of Elias’s weight.

Jonas pushes past them. “Just around this corner,” he promises, moving ahead and leaving Mikael and the others behind. They drag Elias to Jonas’s front door and Jonas unlocks it and Elias hits the doorframe going in, Even pulling at his arms and Mikael’s hand resting gently on his back.  

“Even, grab water,” Jonas says, and Even nods easily, disappearing into the kitchen. Jonas watches Mikael push Elias down onto the couch. “I’ll go get a blanket and something for him to puke in.” 

“I got it,” Isak says, scrambling around the couch.

“Hall closet,” Jonas calls after him. 

Isak waves his hand dismissively. “I know where the fuck your extra blankets are; I grew up here too.” 

That leaves Jonas standing with Mikael in his living room, the two of them staring down at Elias, who’s got his eyebrows drawn together but his eyes closed, heavy and about to pass out for good. 

“What’d you mean?” Jonas asks abruptly.

“What?” Mikael doesn’t turn to look at him, just faces away, watching Elias press his face into the cushions. 

“When you said that it’s not the first he’s done something like this,” Jonas clarifies.

When Mikael looks down at Elias on the couch, there’s something soft that lives behind his eyes when he does so. “It’s messy,” he says simply. 

Even walks back in and rests a plastic cup of water at the coffee table at Elias’s head, and Isak returns dragging a blanket and a trash can, handing the blanket to Even silently, letting him tuck Elias in.  

“We’re going to head home,” Isak almost whispers beside Jonas. “I’ll text you, though?” 

Jonas nods, once, and claps Isak on the shoulder. “Do you know if Mags is still at the party?”  

“I never know what Mags is doing.” 

“Fair enough,” Jonas grins. “I’ll text him too.” 

Isak bites at his lip and tilts his head towards Mikael, asking an obvious question to Jonas. 

“Go, Is, it’s fine,” he says. Isak takes one more look at Jonas, long and searching, before he nods and follows Even over to the front door. 

Crouched down beside Elias’s head, one hand resting on his cheek, Mikael looks up when the door shuts. “Oh,” he says, “I guess I should get going to.”

He starts to move away and Elias twitches. “No,” Elias mutters, grabbing at Mikael’s arm in desperation. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jonas and Mikael both freeze at his words, because there’s something so terribly broken in his voice and in the way his eyes are squeezed shut so tightly. Mikael shudders out a breath and looks up at Jonas. 

He considers it - Elias, despite being the one to actually hit Isak, is actually a really good guy. And he was just backing up one of his best friends, which is something that Jonas can respect, so, he concludes, he likes Elias. He doesn’t like Mikael. It’s a tradeoff, a compromise. If he makes Mikael go home, then he hurts Elias, but if he lets Mikael stay, then, well, Mikael’s in his house. 

“You can stay,” Jonas says eventually. He can’t muster up the energy to put malice behind it. 

Mikael blinks at him, looking kind of surprised. “Thanks. I can sleep on the floor in here.”

“I don’t hate you enough to make you sleep on the floor, man,” Jonas says, half-bitter smile on his face and tiredness creeping through his voice. “My sister will kill me if her room is messed with, like, at all, and there’s something kind of weird about _you_ sleeping in my moms’ bed, so I’ll sleep there and you can take mine."  

Mikael still looks a little shocked, like he didn’t expect this at all, didn’t expect Jonas to be bare minimum level of nice. “Okay,” he nods, “thanks.”

Jonas nods right back at him and then goes to grab some clothes from his room, brushes his teeth and falls onto his mamma’s side of the bed, his phone charging beside him and the quiet noise of Mikael shutting his bedroom door down the hall. 

He sleeps without dreaming, and when he wakes up, he reaches for his phone blearily. There’s a Facebook message from Elias, thanking him and saying that he left this morning and the blanket is folded on the couch. Magnus apparently spent the night sending a series of increasingly incomprehensible messages, and Jonas squints at them until he realizes that it’s a jumbled up version of a story where the end result is Magnus getting laid. That makes one of them, Jonas thinks bitterly. He pulls himself up and makes his way to the bathroom, stares at himself in the mirror and wipes the tiredness from under his eyes. He’s running his hands through his hair when Thea opens the door, popping her gum annoyingly.

“God, did you never learn how to knock?” Jonas asks his little sister.

She tilts her head, unfazed. “There’s a boy in your bed,” Thea informs him.

Jonas is scrambling for answers. He can’t very well say,  _ oh, he’s my guy-I-got-in-a-fight-with-and-then-hated-and-then-made-a-truce-with _ at expect anyone to understand, and that’s not really an explanation as to why Mikael’s in his goddamn bed, anyways. Did he  _ not  _ leave with Elias? Fuck. “Did Mamma see?”

“If Mamma saw, do you think you’d be standing here right now?” Thea says drily. “She’s not home yet. Mom’s waiting for you in the kitchen.” She spins out of the doorway, smiling like she’s enjoying Jonas’s pain, and he hauls ass for the kitchen. He needs to deal with this before Mamma gets back.

“Jonas Noah Vasquez,” his mother intones dramatically, raising the same eyebrows that Jonas inherited. “Please explain why I went to go check on you when we got home and instead found a sleeping shirtless boy in your bed.” 

“Okay,” Jonas says, raising both hands in an offering of peace. “He’s just a friend. He needed a place to stay last night so I said he could sleep here and I slept in your bed.”

His mom looks at him, sizing him up. “You might want to get some clothes on him before Mamma gets here, because she’s not going to be as understanding as me.” She turns around and grabs her mug from the counter behind her, and then add, “I let him sleep because he looked so cute.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Jonas says quietly. She nods and tucks a smile into her coffee cup as she sips. 

Jonas ducks out of the kitchen as quickly as he entered, and opening the door to his room, Jonas is quiet, the soles of his feet gentle on the hardwood floor. Mikael’s dead asleep. He’s splayed out across Jonas’s bed, one hand over his bare chest and the other resting on the mattress beside his head, which isn’t even on the pillow. Jonas’s mom is wrong. Mikael doesn’t look cute. He looks like a fucking god torn right from the comets, something ethereal in Jonas’s bed, and Jonas hates it. 

“Wake up,” Jonas says. His voice sounds too loud in the soft silence of the room. He watches Mikael’s face closely, for some sign of a reaction, but nothing happens. Jonas takes a few steps closer. “Mikael.”  

The second time that Jonas touches Mikael, he thinks about it way too much. When he stretches out his hand, it doesn’t look like his own, hovering over Mikael’s shoulder, and when he brushes his fingers against Mikael’s skin, it’s warm. Burning hot and it feels like it traces its way through Jonas’s entire body, landing heat in his stomach.

Mikael moans, tiny and in the back of his throat, and it would be kind of really hot if it wasn’t, you know, Mikael. 

“Hey,” Jonas tells the sleeping boy under his hand, “it’s time to get up.”

That boiling feeling in Jonas’s gut gets even worse when Mikael opens his eyes. He looks confused, bleary, a delicious mixture of soft and hot in Jonas’s bed. Shit. 

“Get up,” Jonas says shortly. He winces at how harsh it sounds, but Mikael looking like this, being here in his bed, is causing a few problems. Mikael blinks. And then he slowly smiles, eyes half-lidded in Jonas’s direction, teeth showing and sitting up, and everything gets a thousand times worse for Jonas. 

“Morning,” Mikael mumbles, voice rumbling in his chest, and every single fucking time that Jonas thinks this is the worst the situation could possibly be, it gets worse. Fuck Mikael, honestly. “How’s Elias?” he asks. 

“He went home,” Jonas answers. Mikael glances down at his own shoulder, where Jonas’s hand is still resting. “Sorry,” Jonas says quietly. He takes his hand away, fingers pulling off the skin slowly, and it burns.

Mikael swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up before Jonas can think to step back, which puts him close enough that Jonas can see his eyelashes. Close enough that Jonas can see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. He comes to the realization, then, that this is hell. And then Mikael yawns, stretches, his entire body on display, muscles rippling and the morning light reflecting off of his skin, and if Jonas thought he was in hell before, he’s just reached another layer.

“Can you hand me my shirt?” Mikael asks with a smirk. Jonas narrows his eyes, because it seems like Mikael knows exactly what he’s doing. It’d be better if Mikael had that body and that face and that hair with, like, a different personality, because he’s honestly an asshole. Mikael points at the floor beside Jonas’s foot and raises an eyebrow. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jonas says, snapping himself out of a haze full of lust and hatred. He bends and grabs the shirt, the fabric soft in his hands and he passes it to Mikael carefully enough that their hands don’t touch. He steps away when Mikael pulls it over his head.

Mikael follows Jonas to the bedroom door and he thinks he can  _ feel _ Mikael’s smug grin behind him. Jonas pokes his head out and looks around the corner, checking to see if his mom’s waiting to ambush them in the living room, and when he doesn’t see anything, he steps into the hallway and goes to the front door.

“Hi!” Jonas’s mom says cheerily. He almost lets out an audible groan before he catches himself. “You must be Jonas’s friend.” 

“And you must be Jonas’s mom.” Mikael’s voice is bright and strong and Jonas is busy glaring at his mom, but he knows that Mikael’s smiling that charming smile. “I can see where he gets his good looks.”

“Mikael’s leaving now,” Jonas says loudly.

He watches the two of them shake hands, and Mikael says, “It was lovely to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, baby,” Jonas’s mom says. She grins at Mikael and Jonas is bitter, because everyone is obsessed with Mikael and of course he’s got Jonas’s fucking mom won over now too. 

“You told your mom that I’m your friend?” Mikael laughs as Jonas ushers him to the door. “We’re friends now?”

“We are  _ not  _ friends.”

Mikael spins around against the door and pouts. “But you obviously said I was your friend.” 

“I lied. It’s time to go,” Jonas tells him. He leans forward to reach the doorknob behind Mikael, which, he realizes as he does so, is a mistake, because now his arm is right beside Mikael’s waist and their chests are close and his mouth is right under Mikael’s ear. The alarms in his head are blaring. Things change, though, when he notices the shaky breath Mikael takes, and he realizes that he might not be the only one affected by this thing.

Interesting.  

Jonas pulls back slowly, eyeing Mikael, who seems to almost be blushing. It’s a realization that Jonas can maybe, just maybe, pay Mikael back for all the discomfort and mixed feelings that he’s caused Jonas.

“Bye, Jonas,” Mikael says, but he steps towards Jonas. 

The dynamic between them has shifted, the change palpable in the air, and Jonas grins, because he finally feels in control. He has the upper hand. He can throw Mikael off, make him blush, make his breath hesitate in his lungs. 

“Bye, Mikael,” Jonas smiles. He opens the door and starts to walk backwards from Mikael, who scoffs. He shakes his head and then, just like that, he’s gone.

Jonas shuts the door behind him. He stands for an indeterminate amount of time, thinking things through and considering everything that’s been happening, everything that will happen. And then his phone buzzes.

**Unknown Number:** hey friend it’s mikael

i got your number from even, thanks for letting me stay last night

i like the way your pillow smells

**Jonas:** We’re not friends and what

**Mikael:** it smells like you

:-)

friend

And shit, judging by the way he’s left staring down at his phone, maybe Jonas doesn’t have the upper hand. Maybe this is going to be harder than he thought.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas snorts, tilts back the rest of his beer, and asks, “There’s an us?”
> 
> “Yeah,” Mikael nods. “There’s an us.”
> 
> And there’s a smile on Jonas’s face, one of the ones that he always gets around Mikael, the kind where he tries to push it down but can’t stop it from showing through. “Okay,” Jonas finds himself agreeing. “There’s an us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay the response to this has been amazing and i hope this chapter lives up to the hype yikes???
> 
> huge shoutout to the best betas ever zoe and tessa <3 all the hearts for you

**MAHDI’S**

**Mikael:** i don’t understand how you don’t like dogs???

**Jonas:** It’s not that I don’t like them I just don’t get the hype

**Mikael:** wow

**Mikael:** if we didn’t have a truce i think i’d have to kill you for that

**Jonas:** Good thing we have a truce then

**Mikael:** good thing for YOU maybe

**Mikael:** i have to deal with the fact that you hate dogs

**Jonas:** I don’t hate them

**Mikael:** hmm sounds familiar

**Jonas:** Don’t be rude

**Mikael:** hello you’re the rude one here! dog hater

Magnus kicks him in the shin and Jonas’s head shoots up. “Man, you’ve been on your phone all night.”

“More like the whole past week,” Isak complains.

Mahdi nods slow and clicks his tongue, a smile spreading across his face, and asks, “You got another girl?”

“Thea wants me to get food for her,” Jonas lies, and he’s not quite sure why. The boys all like Mikael well enough; Magnus and Mahdi just think he’s cool, and Isak’s been spending time with him and Even. But it’s different. He feels like he’s betraying Isak by talking to Mikael and  _ enjoying  _ it like this, like he’s being a shitty friend, and it’s painful, stinging in his chest. 

“I wish I had an older brother,” Magnus says dreamily. “Does Even count?”

Isak narrows his eyes at Magnus, who’s sitting with his elbows on the table, cradling his chin in his hands. “My boyfriend is  _ not _ your older brother.”

“But he buys me food! And he loves me!”

“He  _ tolerates _ you,” Isak snorts.

**Mikael:** and now you’re ghosting me so that’s even RUDER

**Jonas:** Sorry that I have a social life

**Mikael:** fake

**Mikael:** you’re probably just getting drunk and/or high with the boys

**Jonas:** Okay that’s not the only thing I do

**Mikael:** but it’s what you’re doing right now

**Jonas:** You don’t know that

**Mikael:** ah but i do

**Mikael:** because i am with even and i just asked him

**Jonas:** That’s an unfair advantage

**Jonas:** Even knows we talk?

**Mikael:** yeah even knows we’re friends

“Look, now he’s smiling at his phone,” Isak says. “I bet he didn’t even hear what we were talking about.”

Jonas blinks up from typing out  _ Not friends _ for the thousandth time and asks, “What?” 

The boys burst into laughter around Mahdi’s kitchen table, Magnus almost spitting out his beer and Isak rolling his eyes as dramatically as always, and eventually they calm down and Mahdi explains.

“We were saying that Emma, that girl Isak used to hook up with? She was asking about you the other day,” he says. 

Jonas lets out a choked laugh. “The  _ fuck _ ?”

Isak nods, cracking a smile and leaning forward towards Jonas. “She messaged me and was like, ‘oh, how are you, how’s Even, is Jonas seeing anyone,’ all casually.” 

“And you -”

“Nah. But do it.” 

“Shit, Isak, she outed you. I’m not going to,” Jonas says, shaking his head.

Magnus points between them, slowly. “I need a translation of best friend language, please.”

“I didn’t tell her that he was hooking up with anyone, because he’s not,” Isak explains. “And Jonas should hook up with her, but he said no, because he believes in bros before hoes.”

At that, Jonas glances back at his phone without meaning to, the unanswered text from Mikael still glowing on the screen, and he knows as Magnus yells, “Bros!” that he’s not the best friend that Isak deserves right now. It’s stupid, it’s a little immature, but he’s torn between the idea that he still needs to protect Isak and Even and the way that these little conversations with Mikael make him feel.

“But I don’t care about that,” Isak continues, speaking towards Mahdi and Mags, “because, like, first of all, saying hoes is sexist.”

Magnus giggles. “You’ve been hanging out with Noora too much.”

“And,” Isak says, glaring at Magnus for the interruption, “ _ second _ of all, I’m chill with whatever makes Jonas happy.”

“That’s so cute,” Mahdi mumbles, and Isak chucks an empty can at his head. Jonas barely notices. He’s letting Isak’s words settle in his head, spinning them around, savoring them -  _ whatever makes Jonas happy _ . Mikael’s sudden presence in his life makes him feel a lot of things, makes him feel unsteady and annoyed - and more than just a little happy. 

“Emma does  _ not  _ make me happy, though,” he says eventually.

Isak shrugs and takes another sip of beer. “She’ll probably message you a some point soon, though,” he tells Jonas, and Jonas groans loud enough to make the other boys start laughing again.

**KAFFEBRENNERIET**

The seventh time that Jonas sees Mikael, it’s raining and he’s looking through the window of the cafe. He steps inside, pushes back his wet hoodie, and waits in line for Mikael to notice him. 

“My friend’s here,” Mikael says to the girl working beside him, not even looking at Jonas. 

“Not friend.” Jonas grins across the counter. The girl rolls her eyes at the two of them.

Mikael tilts his head and asks, “Isn’t that getting a little boring? Just saying that all the time?”

“There’s a line, Mikael,” his coworker sighs. “Stop flirting and work.”

“Fine.” Mikael jerks his chin in the direction of the other end of the counter, where there’s an unclaimed coffee cup. “I made it when I saw you come in, so you’re welcome. On the house,” he adds hastily when he sees Jonas start rifling through his pockets for the money to pay, and Jonas raises an eyebrow.

“Keep the line moving, please,” Mikael says, teasing, but the look on the face of the girl beside him says that  _ she  _ isn’t kidding, so Jonas moves along and lets Mikael turn his attention to the person behind him. “Shift ends in five,” he calls over.

“I’ll be at the window,” Jonas yells back over his shoulder, already walking away to the spot where he last met Mikael at work. It’s close enough that can hear something clattering and Mikael swearing.

“Just clock out early,” his coworker snaps. “You can’t focus when he’s here.”

Mikael apologizes a couple of times and then there’s silence, Jonas just grinning into his coffee and Mikael drops into the seat beside him a few minutes later.

“Hi friend,” he says, smiling brightly.

Jonas holds back his matching smile and raises an eyebrow. “What’d you break?”

“I didn’t  _ break  _ anything,” Mikael protests. “I just knocked over some things.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonas says, sipping his coffee, and Mikael swats him hard on the arm. “You’re such a violent person, what the fuck?”

Mikael leans back in his seat. “Don’t forget that Isak hit me first. And  _ you  _ grabbed me first.”

“Not what I meant,” Jonas says, rolling his eyes but it’s getting to the point where he can’t keep his smile back any further. Mikael’s in his element, and he raises a finger to stop Jonas.

“Because,” Mikael continues dramatically, smirking, “you couldn’t keep your hands off of me.”

Jonas bites at the inside of his cheek so that he’s able to shoot Mikael a glaring look, but Mikael just keeps smiling and doesn’t wilt at all under Jonas’s gaze. 

“You can shut up at any point,” Jonas says flatly. He hadn’t thought it was possible, but Mikael’s grin grows even wider.

“Fine. How’s your mom? Has she asked about me yet?” Mikael changes the subject smoothly.

“Why would she ask about you?” Jonas snorts to disguise the fact that yes, actually, his mother has been asking about Mikael, saying how sweet he was and asking when Jonas will bring him back over.

Mikael spreads his hands out in disbelief. “Parents literally love me? I bet your mom wants to adopt me.”

“She thinks you’re nice,” Jonas says. Straight up, no feelings - except for the one in his chest as his heart thuds when Mikael smiles directly at him, eyes warm and happy.

“I am nice.” Mikael sounds satisfied and he grabs Jonas’s coffee out of his hands to take a sip from it. 

Jonas glances down at his suddenly empty hands, and then over at his coffee, Mikael’s lips around the rim, and finds himself saying, “Okay, that wasn’t nice.”

Without responding, Mikael grimaces. “This is disgusting,” he complains.

“If you’re going to steal my shit, don’t complain about how it tastes,” Jonas laughs, watching the way that Mikael’s nose scrunches up in aversion to the bitterness of the coffee. He bets that Mikael drinks something with lots of whipped cream, more milkshake than actual  _ coffee _ , something sweet and sugary and fluffy. 

“I work in a coffee shop,” Mikael says. He slides the cup back over.  “Let me make you something better than this.”

Jonas shakes his head and Mikael pouts, widening his eyes and angling his head to the side, and whispers, “Please?”

“That,” Jonas says, pointing at Mikael as he holds his coffee protectively, “was disgusting.”

Mikael pretends to be affronted for a solid few seconds, looking at Jonas with his eyes big and round and his hands pressed flat on the countertop, before he breaks the act and starts to laugh, that same big smile reaching across his face.

“Listen,” he says, nudging his knuckles into the side of Jonas’s arm, “want to go somewhere?”

“Somewhere,” Jonas repeats skeptically. “Where’s somewhere?”

Mikael smiles a little wickedly as he stands up and taps his fingers against the back of the chair, and tells Jonas, “Adam’s stepmom has a house with a pool. We could break in.”

“Mikael.”

“I like when you say my name.”

“Neither of us are white,” Jonas points out, ignoring Mikael’s comment. “Meaning that we can’t just break into places and  _ not  _ get arrested.”

Mikael’s face slowly falls. “That’s true.” He pauses, thinking for a second, and then his face lights back up, eyes bright. “Okay, so take me somewhere you like.”

“What?” Jonas lets out a shocked laugh. 

“Take me somewhere you like. Where do you hang out? What’s special to you?”

“You’re cheesy.”

Mikael spreads both arms out in the direction of the door and says simply, “Let’s go.”

**THE SKATEPARK**

It’s a summer night and the weather is warm, so the park is crowded with kids with their shirts flowing behind them and the sound of spray cans against the walls and the smell of weed in the air. Jonas is slightly disappointed by how many people there are, and he looks over at Mikael nervously - there’s a part of him that needs Mikael to like this, like he’s showing Mikael a part of him and it hurts. 

But Mikael’s smiling in awe. He’s standing next to Jonas, looking at the entire scene, taking it all in, and he turns to Jonas and says, “This is fucking  _ amazing _ .”

“Yeah?” Jonas asks quietly, trying not to smile too much.

Mikael shuffles around in place. He fits in here, with the boys that wear skinny jeans and white t-shirts, everything a little too saturated and loud. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” he wonders. 

“Do you skate?”

“Nah.” Mikael shakes his head and gives Jonas another little smile before turning to look around again. “But this would be such a cool place to shoot. Like - here, come look at this.” Without hesitation, he grabs Jonas’s hand and drags him to a spot on the wall behind the bench, somewhere that Jonas has never even really looked before.

And now he’s here, in the place he thought he knew. His hand still entwined with the boy he thought he hated. Jonas stands and watches Mikael. Mikael’s mouth is slightly parted and he’s talking excitedly about how he wants to bring his camera here, about the angles and lighting and contrast, and all around them is the chaos; the motion and screaming and slamming of skateboards on concrete, and then there’s Jonas and Mikael. Standing quietly and looking at the designs in front of them. Standing quietly and looking at each other.

They stay until they’re the only ones in the park, until it’s dark and they sit on the rim of the bowl with their feet dangling down, close enough that Mikael’s leg is pressed up against Jonas’s.

“This one time,” Jonas says, grinning at the memory, “Isak and I were here and he got really fucking high and thought it was, like, a  _ great _ idea to lay on my skateboard on his stomach and just, like, roll down the side head first, and then he obviously crashed and ended up laying in the bottom of the bowl, and I ask if he was okay and he just goes, ‘I don’t think I have a nose anymore.’”

Mikael laughs brightly, leaning back on his elbows and baring his throat. He sits forward and his hair brushes against the skin on Jonas’s arm, soft and fluttering, and it’s a long moment where everything seems to be suspended in time. When he quiets, his laughter seems to absorb into the darkness.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Mikael says, voice almost a whisper, warm like the summer air around them.

Jonas smiles. “Yeah.”

The absence of Mikael’s arm against his makes him shiver.

“Are you okay with him being with Even, then?” Mikael asks, and Jonas stares at him, barely able to make out his features in the night air, until he gets what Mikael’s saying, and gasps, “Oh my God, no, not like that. I mean, yeah, I love him, but -” He pauses before continuing more slowly, trying to put his thoughts into words.

“Isak’s like my best friend and my brother and like, my platonic soulmate, if that makes sense. But I could never - like, shit, I feel like that’s an assumption people make because Issy’s gay and I’m, uh, not… straight?”

Mikael seems to relax back into Jonas a little bit, and Jonas thinks that he can feel Mikael’s pinky finger against his own. “Not straight? That’s what you’re going with?” he asks carefully.

“Yeah,” Jonas laughs uncertainly. “Like, I don’t know, there’s a lot of shit surrounding gender and sexuality and I just don’t feel like a label fits me right now, so, not straight.” He shrugs his shoulder. He can’t really see Mikael, but he can sense him nodding. 

“That’s how I feel about gender,” Mikael says.

“Gender?”

Shifting slightly beside Jonas, Mikael leans even closer. “I just feel like things don’t fit for me, like I’m not enough of one thing but too much of another, so it’s whatever. And, also, gender is a huge selling point to keep us in line with the whole subgenre of capitalism and societal consequences and that mess.”

Jonas takes it all in, nodding. He feels like this should be a conversation that they have when they’re high, but he doesn’t have anything on him and so he’s just left with his head clear and his body humming where Mikael touches him, and he asks, “So what about pronouns and shit?”

“I just stick with saying I’m a boy because it fits well enough, and it’s like, that might change, but I’m open to whatever.” He grins, teeth flashing white in the little light they still have left. “I’ll let you know,” he adds.

“That’s chill,” Jonas agrees, and he bumps their shoulders together, taking a quiet little sliver of pride in how Mikael shivers and pushes back into him. 

**THE BAKKOUSH’S**

Jonas picks Mikael up at KB, hanging out at the back door and leaning against the brick wall on his phone until Mikael bursts out, grinning. 

“I gotta stop by Elias’s place,” he says apologetically. “Is that fine?”

And Jonas’s palms get sweaty, because he doesn’t think that anybody knows he and Mikael even hang out, let alone have, well, whatever this is, but Mikael’s still smiling at him from his place on the concrete steps, so Jonas nods until Mikael steps off the steps and walks down the street.

Mikael doesn’t even knock on the door. He’s told Jonas that he needed to show Elias how to edit this one particular part of their new video, and he bursts in yelling about some software.

“Yeah, Mik, we  _ tried  _ that,” Elias calls back. 

And then there’s a voice that Jonas recognizes as Sana’s yelling, “Can you shut up? We’re trying to study.”

“What the fuck, Sana, it’s summer?” 

Jonas stands amused against the doorframe, slipping his phone into his pocket and watching as Sana pokes her head out of her room.

“Elias,” she says snarkily, “not all of us take a gap year and leech off of our parents.” She shuts the door heavily.

Mikael flops down on the couch beside Elias, limbs bouncing on the cushions and resting his head on Elias’s shoulder. “This looks terrible,” he says plainly. Elias whines. 

“Jonas,” Mikael says, reaching out to him, “you’ve done film editing before, yeah?”

It’s only at that moment that Elias seems to realize that Jonas is there, looking up from the computer screen and blinking owlishly, and he nods a slightly confused hello, glancing back and forth between Mikael and Jonas.

“Uh, yeah.” Jonas clears his throat. 

Mikael looks at him openly and pats the cushion beside him. “Okay,” he says, “so come help.”

“Okay,” Jonas repeats, shooting Mikael a look before sitting next to him, gingerly. 

“Look, fuck, I keep trying to pull  _ this  _ part here -”

“You can’t do that, though,” Mikael interrupts, shaking his hair out over his ears.

Jonas tilts his head and stares at the screen. “Yes, you can. Just… here, let me show you.”

He tries to reach over to the laptop and ends up with his shoulder leaning into Mikael’s chest, one elbow on Mikael’s stomach and Mikael’s laughing, berating Jonas for being  _ violent _ and  _ attacking  _ him, and Jonas finds himself grinning close to Mikael’s face and teasing him right back, jabbing his fingers into Mikael’s thigh hard enough for him to yelp, and that’s when Isak walks in.

“...hi?” Isak asks, with his voice high, staring at Jonas, halfway splayed across Mikael’s lap.

“Hey,” Jonas says back. He doesn’t think to move off of Mikael at first, and Isak’s mouth quirks in confusion, so Jonas pulls himself back up into an upright position, still in contact with Mikael’s side.

“Isak, why are you guys studying and why isn’t Even here?” Elias complains. 

“The better question,” Isak says, “is why is Jonas here?”

“He came with me,” Mikael answers casually, not even looking up from the screen.

Jonas looks back at Isak, who’s still confused, and Isak asks, “You guys… hang out?”

“Yeah,” Mikael says. Isak stares at Jonas, but Jonas doesn’t have an answer that doesn’t involve _he makes me feel like I can tell him anything, I don’t know what we are or where we’re going but it’s good, and I’m sorry that I can’t protect you like you deserve and I’m sorry that I can’t protect Even but I don’t know how to stop this_ , and so he stays quiet.

Isak nods eventually, still dubious. “Okay. I’m gonna, uh, make tea if any of you guys want some.”

“You’re not making the tea,” Sana says suddenly, spinning around the corner and grabbing Isak’s arm. “ _ I’m  _ making the tea.  _ You _ are going to watch and learn.”

She drags him into the kitchen and he stutters out a small “Fuck!” as he shoots Jonas one last highly suspicious look over his shoulder.

“Okay, focus,” Elias commands. “Jonas, show that to me again.”

And so Jonas does, his side pressed warmly against Mikael’s, and Mikael makes room for him by lifting up his arm and resting it around Jonas’s shoulders, and he can’t help but relax into it. Elias doesn’t even blink.

“Okay, cool. You got it?” Mikael asks Elias, who’s frowning down at his computer and replaying the clip over and over until he nods. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Jonas,” he says, and smiles. “Where are you guys heading?”

Mikael makes a face and turns his head to look at Jonas, but they’re already so close that it’s almost like Mikael’s nose could brush against Jonas’s forehead. “McDonald’s?” Mikael offers. Jonas watches his lips form the words.

“You’re a slave of capitalism,” Jonas mumbles with a grin, and Mikael laughs. 

“Well,” Elias starts as he stands up and stretches, “you’re welcome to hang out here. Adam and Mutta were coming over later, anyways.” 

Looking at Jonas, still tucked into his side, Mikael tilts his head and whispers, “It’s up to you.”

“Yeah,” Jonas says. He leans his head back so he can look at Mikael. “I’m chill with that.”

Mikael smiles big and nods, tells Elias that they’re staying and pulls Jonas up from the couch in one solid motion. 

They all end up piled into the kitchen. Sana glares at them from her place by the counter, and Isak levels Jonas with another pensive gaze, which he ignores.

“When are Adam and Mutta getting here?” Mikael asks cheerfully, sliding up to perch on the table. 

“Like half an hour? I think,” Elias says, and then he looks at Isak and exclaims, “Oh, fuck! We need to invite Even!”

Isak looks at him blankly. “I’m sure he’ll be fine if you don’t,” he says, when he realizes that they’re expecting him to speak for Even. 

Jonas has somehow ended up standing beside Mikael at the table, his hip pressing into the same ledge that Mikael’s legs are dangling off of. 

“Yeah, no. That was fine when it was just me and Adam and Mutta, but now Mik’s here, and it’d be only Even who’s missing, which is rude,” Elias explains, gesturing wildly. 

“Okay, so invite him,” Sana says, plain and simple, pouring tea into two mugs. She hands one to Isak and he sips at it, but his eyes are still on Jonas. 

Elias huffs and whips out his phone. 

“Meme,” Mikael tells Jonas, tapping on his shoulder with his phone, and on the screen is something purposefully low quality and warped and it doesn’t even make  _ sense _ but it makes Jonas laughs anyway, his arm pushing into Mikael’s leg, Mikael’s arm pushing into his shoulder. Isak coughs. 

Isak raises his eyebrows at Jonas and Sana smirks enough to show her dimples, biting at her bottom lip a little. The two of them are standing next to each other and leaning on the counter, mirror images of each other as they sip tea, both of them looking terribly  _ knowing _ as they watch Jonas and Mikael.

“They’re all going to be here in, like, ten minutes,” Elias announces, looking far too pleased with himself and far to oblivious to everything that’s going on. “Isak, are you hanging with us?”

Isak glances at Sana, seemingly for permission, and she says, “Yes, he is. I have plans,” and vanishes back into her room with her cup of tea gripped tightly in her hands.

“Plans… in her room?” Elias asks, tilting his head and looking to Isak for answers.

“She’s FaceTiming Yousef,” he smirks, and Elias and Mikael both burst into hums of appreciation, Mikael waggling his eyebrows dramatically.

“That’s a thing?” Jonas says, amused. Mikael’s left forearm is still resting on his shoulder. 

“None of us really know, like, not even the girls.” Isak shrugs. 

Jonas nods, lapsing into an uncomfortable silence as Elias and Isak start joking around and Mikael scrolls on his phone, still leaning onto Jonas. Adam and Mutasim show up and Mikael flings himself off of the table and into Adam’s arms. Adam catches him easily, laughing, tucking Mikael under his arm and nudging at his head. Jonas watches it all. There’s a lot of touching, a lot of love in Adam’s eyes when he looks down at Mikael, and Jonas suddenly sees something a lot more clearly - this is just how Mikael is. All the contact, the skin on skin and the arms thrown around Jonas’s shoulder, the long, soft looks and the big smiles just mean nothing more than Mikael just being  _ himself _ , being  _ friendly _ , and Jonas is struck by a terribly empty feeling. It’s okay, though, because nothing really happened between him and Mikael, nothing really  _ important _ , at least, and he’s grateful for that, because he can be okay with it, now that he knows.

“So,” Isak says, interrupting his thoughts. 

Jonas looks over at him. “So?”

“Mikael. He likes you.” It should be a question but Isak says it like a statement, like it’s truth, a given, and Isak looks calm, smiling at him.

Jonas shrugs. “He’s like that with everyone.”

Isak looks at him thoughtfully, and then twists his mouth to the side and says, “Nah, he’s not, though.” 

“Have you not seen him with Adam?” Jonas scoffs, and Isak immediately starts to shake his head. 

“That’s not how he is with  _ you _ , though,” Isak says quickly. Jonas stares at him, halfway in confusion. He doesn’t know if he’s worried that Isak sees through him, or if he’s worried Isak is wrong, or worried that Isak is right, and Jonas tries to defend himself as best he can.

He clears his throat and says, “Well, I still don’t like him.” 

“Yeah,” Isak nods, “sure.” Isak raises his eyebrows as Jonas lowers his, and they stare at each other for a while until Jonas breaks off the eye contact and looks over at the rest of the boys in the living room.

The door opens and everyone yells simultaneously, all the boys piling onto Even before he can even get all the way in the door. Jonas can hear Mikael’s voice above all the rest, and see Mikael bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in the midst of the crowd of boys, all talking over each other at once.

“All we need now is Yousef,” Mutta declares with his arm around Even.

Elias gasps. “Sana!” he yells. “Bring Yousef out here!”

Jonas isn’t sure if Sana just doesn’t hear him or if she’s purposefully ignoring him, but she doesn’t come out of her room and Elias sighs. “Fine,” he says, “whatever. Even, your boy and  _ his _ boy are in the kitchen.”

“What?” Adam laughs.

Even just raises his eyebrows and says, “Oh, cool, Jonas is here?”

The whole group of boys pile into the kitchen unceremoniously, still chatting and laughing and bumping shoulders with one another. Even goes right over to Isak and scoops him up in a kiss. Mikael goes right over to Jonas and smiles at him. 

“Wanna help us come up with ideas for our next video?” Mikael asks him, low and soft in his ear, and it should be low enough that he can barely hear it amongst the commotion, but Jonas can hear every single syllable, Mikael’s breath ghosting over his ear and neck, his smile lighting up Jonas’s peripheral vision.

“You guys don’t plan ahead?” Jonas jokes, and Mikael scoffs at him.

“Have you met  _ any  _ of us?” 

And so Jonas spends his afternoon wedged between Isak and Mikael, watching Mutta lay on the floor and complain about how nobody ever listens to him, to which Elias points out that most of their recent videos  _ have _ been Mutta’s ideas, and Even puts his head in Isak’s lap and sighs that he misses Yousef, and at one point it’s just Mikael’s arm around Jonas and Jonas grinning at Isak in the midst of the bickering like,  _ what can you do? _

“We could play, like, drinking games, but sober,” Elias says dully, after what seems like hours.

Everybody groans.

“Spa day?” Adam offers. Mutta props himself up on his elbows just enough that he can stare blankly at Adam and ask, “What?”

“Buy face masks and Mik can teach us to paint our nails and oh, shit! We can do waxing!” Adam shoots up like he’s just had a genius idea strike him. The boys sit in shocked silence. 

“Okay, but we’re on a very strict budget, so I’m not buying a lot of waxing shit,” Even says, breaking the silence. 

“What would we  _ wax _ ?” Elias wonders out loud.

Adam kicks him in the stomach, gently, but hard enough to make Elias groan. “Legs!”

“I’m just gonna put it out there,” Mikael says, leaning forward. “I’m not waxing my legs. Or any part of my body.”

“Yeah, fine, you can be in charge of nails,” Adam tells him excitedly, starting to get really into the idea, and Mikael nods with his arm still comfortably slung behind Jonas.

“This seems like a terrible idea,” Mutta says thoughtfully from the floor. 

They’re all quiet, considering that yes, maybe it  _ does  _ seem like a terrible idea.

“Precisely. Let’s do it,” Elias nods, and everyone else makes noises of agreement. “Boys,” he says, dramatic in the way he sweeps his arms over the room, “are you sleeping here tonight?”

Adam and Mutta glance at each other, shrug, and nod.

“Nah, we have a double date with Noora and Eva tonight,” Even says, smiling charmingly, and Isak rolls his eyes. 

Elias turns his eyes back over to Mikael and waits for an answer, and Jonas waits too, before realizing that Mikael’s looking at him. 

“You still want to go out?” he asks softly.

“Uh,” Jonas says, suddenly feeling like he’s put on the spot. “I should probably go home. My moms are expecting me for dinner.” 

Mikael’s smile loses an imperceptible amount of brightness. “I can walk you home?” It sounds like a question.

“Yeah,” Jonas answers. 

“Okay, we have to get going boys,” Even says, and then stands, turning to Isak, and saying, “Come on, baby.”

The guys all chorus, teasing, and Isak flips them off while Even laughs and pulls him out of the door.

“Come on, baby,” Mikael mimics, except he’s looking at Jonas and offering his hand and smirking.

Jonas is speechless for a second, eyes connecting deep with Mikael’s, and then he swats away Mikael’s hand and stands up, saying, “Listen, not all of us are Isak.” Jonas saunters over to the door and Mikael follows him, puts his arm around Jonas in a way that already feels far too familiar, and declares, “I’ll be back, boys. Love you all.”

**JONAS’S**

Shifting his weight on his feet, Jonas leans against his front door and looks at Mikael, who’s still fucking  _ smiling  _ at him. 

“So,” Jonas says, “uh-”

“Mikael!” Jonas’s mom exclaims delightedly, throwing open the door and making Jonas almost fall into the house. 

“Hi!” Mikael greets her with equal enthusiasm. He lets her wrap him in a hug. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asks openly, glancing between he and Jonas. 

Mikael laughs and says, “No, thanks for the offer, but I’m heading back over to my friend’s. I just came to walk Jonas home.” He smiles, tilts his head, and Jonas thinks that there’s something about that image that’s terribly, beautifully cliche.

“Alright,” Jonas’s mom says sadly. “I’ll see you later, then, darling.”

Waving, Mikael steps off of the porch, eyes on Jonas until he can’t watch him anymore, and he heads back in the direction of Elias’s place as Jonas steps inside. 

**Mikael:** i miss you

**Jonas:** Absence makes the heart grow fonder

**Mikael:** wow

**Mikael:** okay

**Jonas:** Wait wtf I can literally see you from my window

**Mikael:** and?

**Mikael:** i still miss you

**Jonas:** You’re disgusting

**Mikael:** :*

**Jonas:** Stop waving

**Mikael:** fine

i’m really leaving now

**Jonas:** BYE MIKAEL

**Mikael:** BYE JONAS

im still going to text you on my way back to elias’s tho

**Jonas:** That’s a lie

You’re going to text me on your way back to Elias’s and then continue texting me all night

**Mikael:** don’t read me like this

**Jonas:** I can’t help it

“Mamma needs you to set the table.”

Jonas peeks around his phone and stares at his little sister, who has an eyeliner pencil in one hand and her other hand drumming impatiently on her thigh.

“Thea,” Mamma says warningly, “I need you  _ and  _ Jonas to set the table.”

“Yeah, okay,” Thea sighs. She disappears into the kitchen and Jonas can hear plates slamming angrily against each other. 

Jonas is reclined back on the couch on his back, both his hands wrapped around his phone and Mikael’s texts lighting up his eyes, and his Mamma shoots him a knowing look and asks, “Are you texting the boys?”

“Yeah,” he says. The answer slips out before he even has a chance to think about it. It’s easier to lie, he supposes, than explain the whole mess of feelings that he has for Mikael. Or, well, not exactly  _ for  _ Mikael, but about Mikael. He’s not sure. Messy is the best way to describe it.

“Just come help set the table, baby,” she says, ruffling his hair and he twitches, because he’s seventeen and his Mamma still calls him baby and because the last person to call him that was Mikael, and the words sound familiar in his mother’s mouth but were deliciously  _ unfamiliar  _ in Mikael’s, and fuck, this really  _ is _ a mess. He sighs, throws his phone on the couch, and goes to help Thea and his moms.

**THAT ONE BENCH**

**Mikael:** you’re coming to walk around with me

**Jonas:** Why would I do that

**Mikael:** because you love me and i’ll buy you food

**Jonas:** No but okay

**Mikael:** cool

**Mikael:** im outside your house

**Jonas:** What the fuck

Shoving his feet in his shoes, Jonas calls out a quick goodbye to his mom and hustles out the door. He tucks his hair into his snapback - actually, it might be Isak’s snapback - in order to disguise the fact that his curls are all  _ over  _ the place and he’s a mess, but Mikael’s just there leaning against a wall and grinning at him. 

“You look good,” Jonas says, appraisingly. “Dressed up for me?”

“Of course,” Mikael answers without even hesitating. He pulls himself off of the wall and starts walking beside Jonas, both hands in his pockets, shoulders brushing together and it’s warm enough that Jonas turns his face towards the sun. 

Jonas takes a deep breath and finds himself smiling. “So, where are we going?” he asks, turning back to Mikael.

“We’re walking,” Mikael says plainly. 

“Okay...” Jonas laughs. “That’s kind of cryptic.”

They walk until Mikael finds whatever he’s looking for, and Jonas isn’t sure what it is, but Mikael stops and lets himself fall onto a bench, one that overlooks the city and sits between sunlight and shade. Jonas stands beside him - he’s not sure if he’s supposed to sit down next to Mikael or what, but Mikael doesn’t really seem like himself, all drawn and thinking too hard, silent in the way he sits, so Jonas sits next to him and exists in that same silence. 

“You okay?” Jonas asks quietly, and he’s not sure why he does, because it’s obvious that Mikael isn’t. 

Mikael still smiles at him, though, warm and welcoming and so close, and says, “Yeah. I just had to get out of my house. And, plus, I wanted to see you.”

Nodding, Jonas treads carefully around his next question. “What’s up?”

“The usual stuff. I just haven’t been getting along with my parents, blah, blah,” Mikael jokes, but Jonas sees through it because he’s had  _ years  _ of practice, and so he leans back into the bench, turns fully towards Mikael, plants his hands in his lap and says, “Okay. So what’s up?”

Mikael looks a little shocked, like he’s never been asked this question seriously before. “Uh. I just have a lot of shit to deal with because of the whole, you know, liking boys thing, and my parents don’t really help with that. And sometimes it feels like my religion doesn’t either.”

There’s a breeze that blows past and raises the hair off of Mikael’s face just enough that it flutters.

“I’m not going to give you answers about your religion, because that’s not my place,” Jonas eventually says. “But I also want to tell you that I know a lot of queer people that have struggled with religion and all. So, like, I was raised as an atheist, because neither of my moms are religious, but my dad is Jewish, and I just didn’t spend a lot of time with him for most of my childhood. And Isak - well, that’s not my story to tell, but he’s struggled a  _ lot  _ with his religion and everything. So, I know a lot of queer people that have struggled with their religion, but I also think that there are a lot of people who find peace in their faith.”

Mikael’s still looking at him, and Jonas shrugs. “Basically, what I’m trying to say is that a lot of religions have been weaponized and corrupted in order to oppress minorities and everything, but really, when you strip religion down to its core, it’s a lot about love and appreciation and there’s something incredibly beautiful in it, especially in Islam.”

“I mean,” Mikael says slowly. “I know that, you know, logically, but it just gets hard, and I’ve fucked things up before when it comes to religion and being queer, or gay, or pan, or… shit, sometimes it just gets hard. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Jonas says, and somehow in this whole thing he’s ended up holding Mikael’s hand, their fingers intertwined and their hearts pulsing through to the fingertips. “It’s heavy stuff.”

Mikael leans his head on Jonas shoulder and it’s there, on that bench, with their hands tucked together between the two of them and Mikael’s hair dusting his cheek and the sun slung warm in the sky, that Jonas knows he’s a goner, because he’s felt it before, felt himself falling like he’s slipping off his skateboard and he’s waiting to hit to concrete but he never does, and that’s where he is now, in the air and his feet are flailing and he knows that he’s going to land  _ hard  _ on his shoulder and all he can do is hope he doesn’t break an arm or hit his head.

**JONAS’S**

The first time that Mikael comes over to Jonas’s house for dinner, it’s a Friday night and both his moms are home and it feels more like a  _ meet the parents  _ dinner than anything.

Mikael wears a button down shirt and Jonas puts product in his hair and tries to act like this isn’t a big deal, but Mikael rings the doorbell and looks  _ good _ , runs his hand over Jonas’s arm as he passes him in the doorway, kicks off his shoes and whispers, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jonas whispers back. 

Mikael reaches out a hand and tugs at one of Jonas’s curls, the one right behind his left ear. 

“What was that for?” Jonas laughs in surprise.

He shrugs, smiles at Jonas, and just says, “I don’t know. Your hair looks good.”

Jonas’s mom’s voice drifts in from the kitchen easily. “Is that Mikael?” She spins around the corner with a carrot in one hand and a peeler in the other, smiling at the two of them where they’re standing far too close, Jonas’s shoulder pressed against Mikael’s chest. 

Mikael steps around Jonas to hug his mom, tight and warm and his eyes flutter closed as Jonas looks on. 

“Come on, I’ll let you meet Jonas’s Mamma,” she says cheerily, grabbing Mikael’s hand. Mikael shoots Jonas an amused look over his shoulder as she drags him towards the kitchen.

“Just go with it,” Jonas hisses to Mikael. He follows the two of them to where his mamma is straining pasta over the sink, steam rising and fogging up the window in front of her.

“Oh, you must be Mikael,” she says immediately, turning around. She sticks out one hand and shakes Mikael’s. 

“Hi,” he says, smiling just as big as he usually does. “The food smells amazing.”

“It’s so nice that Jonas finally brought a friend over for dinner, you know, he stopped bringing them over after first year. We hardly even see Isak anymore,” Mom says. She’s bustling around, talking fast like she usually does, folding napkins and hovering. “Oh! Do you know Isak?”

“Yes, Mom,” Jonas sighs, “he’s best friends with Isak’s boyfriend.”

“That’s lovely. What about Eva? Does he know Eva?”

She asks Jonas but Jonas looks at Mikael, letting him answer.

“I’ve talked to her a few times,” Mikael says smoothly. “She’s best friends with my other friend’s little sister.”

“Isn’t it amazing how connected everybody is?” Jonas’s mom laughs, a bright noise, and her wife smiles.

“Food’s ready,” Mamma announces, sliding plates onto the table.

They begin to serve themselves in silence, until Jonas clears his throat and asks, “Where’s Thea tonight?”

His parents look at each other. “Sleeping over at a friend’s, I think,” his mamma says.

Jonas nods. That means that she’s at a party. He’ll have to text the boys and ask them to keep an eye on her if they end up at the same place. 

“So, Mikael,” Jonas’s mom begins, and Jonas almost grimaces before he stops himself. “What school do you go to?”

Mikael wipes the corner of his mouth and brushes Jonas’s ankle with his own. “I’m from ‘97, so I graduated last year from Bakka,” he explains, “but I’m taking a gap year.”

Mom tilts her head to the side. “What do you want to study?”

“Photography,” Mikael says dreamily, and he’s got that certain smile on his face where his lips are barely parted and he’s just  _ happy  _ talking about it, in a kind of comfort and security that Jonas has never felt.

Both of his moms smile, watching Mikael and watching Jonas watch Mikael, and it’s the kind of night that makes all his bones feel warm and solid in his body.

That feeling only grows stronger when he walks Mikael to the door, full on dinner and dessert and whatever this thing is that grounds him in his skin, makes him feel like home, and then Mikael’s sliding on his shoes and calling out final goodbyes to his moms and they’re outside, summer light still filtering through the air around them, and that’s the first time that Mikael kisses him.

It’s not dramatic, or hot, or intense. It’s sweet. Closed lips and Mikael’s hand on the side of his face and gentle. It’s the kind of kiss that promises more to come. It’s the kind of kiss that, while it lasts for only a few seconds, is full of hope, and it’s warmth and caramel from the sweets they just ate and Mikael’s fingers trail off of Jonas’s skin as he pulls away and that’s it, just them smiling at each other and quiet, gold light and wind in branches and Mikael murmurs something about having to go home and he’s gone, leaving Jonas standing on his doorstep still smiling.

**Mikael:** i miss you

**Jonas:** It’s been three minutes

**Mikael:** yes

**Mikael:** was that okay

**Jonas:** Was what okay

**Mikael:** fuck you

**Mikael:** you know what i mean

**Jonas:** Yeah

**Jonas:** That was very okay

**Mikael:** :-)

**Jonas:** Why does it have a nose

**Mikael:** what do you have against noses

**Jonas:** Nothing

**Mikael:** first you hate me…. then you hate dogs….. now you hate noses

**Mikael:** when will it end

**Jonas:** I’ve never hated any of those things

**Jonas:** Except maybe you

**Jonas:** In the beginning

**Mikael:** physical violence is a damn good meet cute tho

**Jonas:** That’s what you think it was?

**Mikael:** obviously

**Mikael:** and just for the record i never hated you

**Jonas:** Okay well we can’t all be as perfect as you

**Mikael:** that’s a given

**Jonas:** My moms love you btw

**Mikael:** also a given

**Jonas:** Full of yourself much?

**Jonas:** Also are you coming to Eva’s party tomorrow

**Mikael:** yeah me and the boys are

**Mikael:** i think ev and isak are pregaming with us

**Jonas:** Oh Isak said he had a place to pregame

**Mikael:** i guess i’ll see you tomorrow then ;)

**Jonas:** Don’t ever use that winking face again

**Jonas:** Disgusting

**Mikael:** ANOTHER thing that you hate

**Mikael:** im actually going to go to bed

**Mikael:** because i have work in the morning and im a responsible adult

**Jonas:** Yeah sure Jan

**Mikael:** wish me sweet dreams :*

**Jonas:** No

**Mikael:** i won’t be able to sleep without it

**Jonas:** I thought you were a responsible adult

**Mikael:** i lied i’m a baby at heart and i crave validation

**Jonas:** At least you admit it

**Jonas:** Sweet dreams

**ADAM’S**

Jonas arrives to Adam’s with the boys, like always, Magnus carrying beer and Mahdi with weed tucked into his waistband and Isak dragging his feet and complaining about he doesn’t want to deal with Vilde tonight, and Magnus jumps to her defense but Isak points out that he doesn’t have to like her just because they’re both gay, and they enter the house bickering.

Adam invites them in with a smile, the rest of his boys already spread out around the room. He, Mutta, and Even aren’t drinking, but they’re watching in amusement as Mikael and Elias both get too tipsy for a pregame. 

Reaching his hands out to Jonas from his position on the floor, Mikael grabs his sleeve and pulls him down beside him.

“Missed you,” Mikael says sweetly.

Jonas just grins back at him. “I know.”

“Yo,” Mahdi says, standing, tapping on Jonas’s head to get his attention. “I’m gonna save the weed for the party.”

“Yeah, that’s chill.”

“Okay, but Isak, like, pregamed the pregame, so he’s being all buzzed and whiny and saying that he wants it now and I need you to get him to stop,” Mahdi continues. He gestures over to Isak, who’s knocking back at least his third beer since Jonas has seen him tonight and pouting next to Elias.

Jonas glances down at his hand, pinky finger resting on top of Mikael’s, and sighs. “Can’t Even deal with him?”

“Even’ll just make me give him the fucking weed.” Mahdi crosses his arms over his chest.

“Fine,” Jonas sighs. He stands up and Mikael frowns at his absence. “I’ll be back,” he adds, resting his fingertips on Mikael’s shoulder, and Mikael relaxes a little at his touch. It’s cute. What’s not cute, though, is Isak stomping his foot and seemingly not understanding that they can’t smoke here, because Adam’s parents will smell it, and he just keeps asking Jonas why he can’t get high  _ now _ . The boy drives Jonas to drink, honestly. 

**EVA’S**

They leave Adam’s a little early because Isak won’t  _ shut the fuck up _ , and Even hears and can’t say no to Isak, so the nine of them take the tram over to Eva’s house and Sana greets them at the door.

“My little sister,” Elias exclaims proudly when he sees her, throwing his arm around her shoulders, and she looks at him disdainfully and says, “Yeah, hi, that’s me.”

“Sanasol!” Isak yells, pushing through the crowd of boys to get to her and cradle her close to him. “I’m so glad your friends love you,” he says. “I love you.” She rolls her eyes. 

The rest of them, considerably more sober than Isak and Elias, offer her nods and various greetings as they walk in. The party’s big, Eva filling out the empty house because she knows  _ everyone _ , and the boys start to fan out to do rounds and greet everyone. They stick together in pairs, mostly - Adam and Mutta talking to some girls near the couch, Elias disappearing into the kitchen with Eskild, who’s there for some unknown reason, Isak and Even curled up in a chair next to Chris Berg, Mahdi and Mags going god knows where, and then it’s just Jonas and Mikael. Standing on the outskirts of the party.

It’s not long before Eva finds Jonas, flings both her arms around his neck and he can feel the bottle of wine pressing against his spine when he laughs against her. She hugs Mikael, too, but ends up more just leaning on him. Jonas covers up a laugh at how bewildered he looks.

“Mikael,” she sighs, drunk already, “you are so, so pretty. Isn’t he pretty, Jonas?”

Jonas actually laughs at this point, making eye contact with Mikael and holding it as he says, “Yeah. He is.”

He thinks that’s a blush on Mikael’s cheeks.

Jonas pulls Eva off of Mikael, wipes some lipstick off her cheek and tells her to go find her girlfriend, grinning at the way her face lights up from the inside at the mention of Noora’s name.

“She and Noora are cute,” Mikael says. He seems more sober than he did at Adam’s, but he’s still leaning onto the wall behind him like he needs the support. 

Jonas nods. He watches Eva stumble her way across the party. She shoots Vilde a thumbs up, because Vilde’s talking to a cute girl and blushing furiously, and then throws both arms around Noora’s neck and pulls her in to whisper something in her ear, something that makes her laugh. 

“Not as cute as us, though,” Mikael adds teasingly, looking at Jonas from the side.

Jonas snorts, tilts back the rest of his beer, and asks, “There’s an us?”

“Yeah,” Mikael nods. “There’s an us.”

And there’s a smile on Jonas’s face, one of the ones that he always gets around Mikael, the kind where he tries to push it down but can’t stop it from showing through. “Okay,” Jonas finds himself agreeing. “There’s an us.”

The party passes easily, like most parties at Eva’s do - there’s some scandal where a random girl ends up crying, Snapchat videos with the flash on, the boys end up smoking in the tub at some point, and by the time they all stumble outside with all their belongings (Magnus thought he was pickpocketed by the girl he hooked up with, but he’d just left his phone in the bathroom), there’s already multiple people puking in the bushes. It’s a classic Eva party, and through it all, Mikael and Jonas are side by side.

It’s not like he plans it. It’s just that they move together, and he always finds his eyes back on Mikael, like there’s something magnetic. Like the two of them gravitate towards one another, orbiting and pulling, and it’s Mikael’s smile right above his shoulder and his laugh right next to his ear and that’s all.

Mikael walks him home, kicks rocks off the sidewalk and bumps into Jonas, who’s still a little high, even though he can feel it wearing off. 

And then it’s Jonas’s front steps like always. Mikael’s standing where he stood yesterday, where he was when they kissed, and Jonas has one hand on the doorknob but he can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to kiss Mikael again. What it’d be like to get everything  _ else  _ that the first kiss seemed to imply. 

Vilde might have a point with all that shit about believing in something and having it come true, he thinks wryly, but then he’s  _ not  _ going to think about Vilde when Mikael’s hand comes down on the back of his neck, warm and solid and rough, and his own hands are in Mikael’s hair and then it’s lips, lips and breathing and it’s so  _ sweet  _ and  _ simple  _ that Jonas thinks he might cry. 

That’s the second time that Mikael and Jonas kiss, and the first time that there’s a  _ them _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so these parts about sexuality/gender/religion were really tough to write - mikael has my views on gender, jonas has my best friend's views on sexuality, jonas has my views on religion and i just want to remind everyone that all those things are SO fucking personal and this convo was really important for them
> 
> basically mikael is a beautiful queer muslim boy and i love him thanks
> 
> also yall probably noticed but miscommunication Will Not Be Occurring Here
> 
> the final chapter (!!) should be up by next week and i will return work on my other fics then <3


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Eva says, leaning forward conspiratorially, “tell me about him.”
> 
> “He’s…” Jonas huffs out a laugh. “He’s amazing.”
> 
> Her smile becomes softer and she asks, “Are you falling in love with him yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait on this my loves!
> 
> but cryptic preview of my favorite parts: sharknado, nail polish, and i double dollar sign :-))))

**THE ICE CREAM SHOP**

It’s not like Jonas is  _ intentionally  _ keeping this thing with Mikael a secret. It’s just that sometimes, it feels like too much -- too much to sort out his feelings and how things changed between the two of them and  _ explain  _ it to someone, and so recently he finds himself lying a lot more. Before he knows it, it’s been weeks and his friends still don’t know that he’s with Mikael. Again, it’s not like he’s trying -- it’s just how it happens.

“Man, where the fuck have you been?” Magnus says as Jonas flops down at the table outside the ice cream place. 

Images of Mikael holding his hand and telling him stupid facts about bees flash in his head. “I was, uh, at McDonald’s,” he lies.

Isak’s already ordered him his favorite ice cream and passes it over, and Jonas starts to eat it while the boys fall into a comfortable pattern of teasing him. It’s vanilla on his tongue, and he breathes into it.

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mahdi says sarcastically. “You were probably fucking that Emma girl or something.” 

The boys all lapse into a teasing chorus. Jonas ignores the way his stomach drops. 

“If I was in the middle of fucking someone, do you think I’d leave to come meet you losers?” he taunts back.

“Yeah, if there was ice cream involved.” Isak smirks at him. 

“Oh, holy shit!” Magnus yells, slapping the palms of his hands down on the table to gain their attention. “That reminds me of this dream I had - no, fucking listen to me, okay. So I was in my bedroom, but not, like, my bedroom, but it felt like it, and I look over and this weird old-looking book is there, so I reach out to touch it, but when I do, it just  _ melts _ , like ice.”

None of them quite know what to say. “Wow,” Mahdi says finally. “I honestly thought it was going to be something sexual.”

“Yeah, I was getting fucked by some guy during it.” He says it so nonchalantly, taking another bite of his ice cream, and if Jonas thought they were sitting in a stunned silence before, it’s nothing compared to now. 

“You’d think you would have mentioned that,” Mahdi points out.

“I did? Just now?”

“No, but the first time you told it.”

“But that wasn’t the point of the dream. The point was that the book melted.”

Isak groans at their bickering, placing his head down on the table and twisting so that he can look to Jonas for help.

“Please,” he mumbles, muffled by his arm, “don’t make me picture Magnus having sex.”

“Oh, fuck you! You probably love picturing me having sex,” Magnus says. He looks terribly pleased with himself. Isak just looks dead inside.

“I literally do not,” he answers tiredly. 

“Yes, you do,” Magnus insists. “I’m hot as fuck.” He turns to Mahdi for backup. “Mahdi, I’m hot, right?”

Mahdi considers him thoughtfully, scanning him up and down, and then shrugs. “You could be if you tried a little more.”

“If I - what the fuck?” Magnus asks, offended with his entire body turned towards Mahdi. “Look, Isak’s hair looks like shit! Jonas isn’t even wearing his own shirt!”

And fuck if he isn’t right, because Jonas and Mikael had been eating kebabs and then gotten into a shoving match and sauce somehow got smeared all over Jonas’s white shirt, and they were close enough to Mik’s that they could just run in and grab something for Jonas to change into, and then Mikael walked him to the street one over from the ice cream place and kissed him goodbye and he’d forgotten about it, but now all the boys are turning around and staring at him, and, yeah, so he’s wearing Mikael’s shirt, and he’s trying to think of some way out of this but the truth is that he’s not a good liar and he doesn’t  _ want  _ to lie, so he just --

“Yeah, it’s Mikael’s.” 

Three pairs of blinking eyes look at him.

“I thought you hated him?” Mahdi says.

“No,” Isak answers for him. “They’re friends. Remember that pregame at Adam’s?”

Mahdi shakes his head with a laugh. “Bro, I remember, like, nothing about that night.”

“I don’t hate him,” Jonas confirms. It’s strange to him that so much has changed since the time he hated Mikael, and that his closest friends don’t know, haven’t known through this whole thing.

“So… why are you wearing his shirt?” Magnus asks. He tilts his head like a puppy.

“Because we were hanging out and I got food on mine, so he just gave me one of his.” 

“Okay, and you just wear it now?” Mahdi’s scraping around the last of his bowl with a spoon.

Jonas shakes his head. “No, it was on the way here.”

“But…” Isak scrunches up his eyebrows. “You were at McDonald’s before? Alone?”

Fuck. He’d forgotten he told them that. This whole lying thing is getting too complicated. Jonas is smart, but he gets lost in his own head and he can’t keep track of all the things he’s told the boys.

“Yeah? I went there after Mikael left.” The answer seems to satisfy them, and Isak and Mahdi go back to taking turns making fun of Magnus, leaving Jonas to wonder why he keeps lying. Wonder what exactly it is he’s so afraid of.

**ISAK AND EVEN’S**

The first time that Jonas actually talks about his feelings for Mikael it’s with Isak, because of course it is. It’s always Isak.

They’re stretched out on Isak and Even’s bed, smoking joints and listening to music in a comfortable silence. 

“So,” Isak says quietly at some point during the afternoon, “Mikael.”

Jonas’s heart thuds hard in his chest, blood rushing up into his ears. “What about Mikael?”

“The last time I saw you look at someone like that was Eva,” Isak explains. Jonas thinks he can see a sad smile on Isak’s face. “You can tell me anything, you know.” 

And Jonas could blame it on the weed, blame it on the fact that this has been building up too long, blame it on the fact that he’d stayed up late last night talking to Mikael about if they wanted to tell anyone, but it’s the first time he doesn’t lie. He lets the words float out of his mouth with the smoke.

“I’ve been seeing Mikael.”

The weed in his system makes it hard to discern how much time passes before Isak’s head flops down beside his own.

“He’s good for you,” Isak tells him, easy and slow, like it’s natural. 

“You’re not mad?” Jonas asks. He twists his head to the side and Isak’s looking up at the ceiling, mouth slightly parted.

Isak blinks slowly. “Why would I be mad?”

There’s a thousand reasons that rest like a dead weight on Jonas’s chest. He picks the one that seems to weigh the most and says, “Because he hurt Even.”

Isak frowns and starts to pull himself up out of the bed. “They’ve made up, though,” he explains, eyebrows knit together. “And it’s not your responsibility to take care of Even; he’s a grown ass man.”

“But it’s my responsibility to take care of you.” He’s not quite sure if he actually says those words out loud and Isak doesn’t give him any clues, just lets himself fall back down beside Jonas and sighs.

“Are you going to tell the boys?” Isak asks. 

Jonas hasn’t really thought that far ahead. “I guess,” he answers eventually. “Mik wants to tell Even himself.”

“Do you want me there where you tell them?” Isak says, and Jonas turns to look at him, because in what world would he  _ not  _ want Isak there? 

“Yes,” he says firmly, “yeah, definitely.”

Isak smiles and inhales. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

There’s another silence spreading like smoke between them, and then Isak snorts in laughter.

“You do realize,” he says, “that this means our boyfriends are best friends and they’re probably going to gang up on us and shit.”

“Nah,” Jonas smirks, “we’ll gang up on them.”

It hasn’t been much longer when Isak shoots up, struck by an idea. “You  _ asshole _ ,” he says. Jonas jumps a bit.

“Huh?”

“I can’t believe I had a crush on you for a whole fucking year and thought you were straight the entire time,” Isak complains.

He’s quiet for a moment because Isak said it casually, but there’s a tense set to his shoulders and Jonas knows that this is still a big deal for him, here with his best friend who’s dating a boy in the apartment he shares with his boyfriend and it’s still a big deal, will always be a big deal, and Jonas has to handle this with gloves on his hands and love in his touch.

“Honestly,” he jokes, “who  _ hasn’t  _ had a crush on me at this point?”

It’s the right thing to say - just the right amount of teasing and softness to bring a lopsided smile to Isak’s face.

“You’re not cool,” he tells Jonas, flopping back down beside him.

They chill there for a while, just until the weed’s starting to wear off and the playlist loops the same songs back, and that’s when they get up to get food and Jonas texts Mikael.

**Jonas:** Hey I told Isak about us

**Mikael:** omg

**Mikael:** howd it go

**Jonas:** Really chill but maybe that was all the weed

**Mikael:** i’ll tell ev? if thats ok

**Jonas:** Yeah of course

**Jonas:** I told my best friend so it’s only fair that you tell yours

**Mikael:** cool

**Mikael:** <3

**Jonas:** Let me know how it goes

Isak flicks the back of his head with a surprisingly sharp fingernail.

“Are you texting Mikael?” he asks with that shit-eating grin that Jonas sees in his fucking nightmares.

“Yeah, actually. He’s going to talk to Even.” Jonas glances back down at his phone and waits for a response.

“They’re working a shift together now, right?” Isak asks, throwing himself back onto the bed and turning on the TV.

Jonas mumbles his agreement. “What about you?” he asks Isak gently. “How’s your mom?”

And Isak’s silent for a moment, just staring blankly at the loading screen, his face hardening in a way that’s all too familiar to Jonas, but then he sighs, softens, glances down at his hands.

“Not too good,” he answers quietly. “I went home a few days ago.”

By now, Jonas knows not to push him too far, so he just hums, prompting Isak to go on.

“Even came with me,” Isak continues, still looking at his lap, “which was good, but, like, just having him there doesn’t make everything suddenly  _ better _ . I don’t know.”

Jonas moves carefully over to sit next to Isak, tucking his legs up. “Let me know if I can help,” he says, because it’s a miracle that Isak’s even talking about this right now and Jonas’s heart swells when Isak meets his eyes with a weak smile.

“I’ll let you know,” he promises. The two of them settle into the quiet once again, resting into each other and starting up a game of FIFA.

**Mikael:** even says and i quote

**Mikael:** “oh really thats great miK PLEASE HELP ME BEFORE I BURN MY HANDS OFF”

**Mikael:** this was during the middle of our shift

**Jonas:** So not the worst reaction

**Mikael:** yeah!!

**Mikael:** and his hands are intact!!

**Jonas:** Always a plus!!

Isak hits him in the chest with his knuckles and Jonas squeaks in offense. “So,” he says, “Even texted me a bunch of emojis that I  _ think  _ mean they talked.”

“Emojis?”

“He’s a cryptic texter,” Isak shrugs. “Boys kissing, boys kissing, pride flag, coffee cup.”

Jonas considers it for a second before nodding and saying, “That’s not too cryptic.”

“Could be worse,” Isak says, and he tosses Jonas an apple. “Oh, you know who’s gay?”

“You?”

“Yeah, but also Elias. Sana’s brother.” Isak grins.

Jonas bites into the apple with a satisfying crunch and raises his eyebrows.

“He’s dating Eskild now,” Isak informs him, and Jonas almost chokes.

“Oh my God,” he says. “I totally see them together. But, like,  _ how _ ?”

“Elias got wasted and they brought him to the kollektiv? So naturally, Eskild started flirting with him, but then apparently they’ve been hanging out and Eskild actually likes him beyond, like, his face, which is new for Eskild. So he asked him out. Or something like that.”

Jonas keeps chewing. “But, like, how did Eskild know he was into guys?”

“I don’t know,” Isak says, shrugging. “How’d you know Mikael was?” 

“He told me.”

“Yeah, well, Even talked about sucking dick during our first conversation, so I’m betting Elias was somewhere between those two,” Isak says. He quirks his lips up and glances over at Jonas.

Jonas snorts with laughter, takes another bite of his apple, and looks at his best friend. He takes a moment to just think, to look at Isak and reflect on how he’s changed, how this is the first time in years that he’s seen Isak look this comfortable in a place. They’ve both grown up rapidly in this past year. It’s a combination, Jonas thinks, of falling in and out of love, of cramming their brains with shit from school, of drinking and smoking and teasing and crying and watching shitty videos and that’s it. It’s their lives in essence, condensed in this one year, and there’s a part of Jonas that thinks he can use it to see the future.

Well, maybe he isn’t entirely sober yet.

**JONAS’S**

**Magnus:** Jonas

**Magnus:** Bro

**Magnus:** BRONAS

**Isak:** Why are you like this

**Jonas:** What

**Magnus:** What are you doing right now

**Jonas:** Chilling at home

**Magnus:** Alone?

**Jonas:** Yeah

**Jonas:** Why

“Okay,” Mikael announces from beside the TV, looking a little too delighted. “Are you ready?” He throws himself onto the couch beside Jonas, landing half on Jonas’s stomach and half on the cushion, and Jonas’s arm wraps around him naturally. He tosses his phone onto the table beside them and smiles down at Mikael.

“Why do I need to be ready? It’s just a movie,” Jonas teases lightly.

Mikael pinches Jonas’s stomach. “Sharknado is not  _ just a movie _ ,” he says. “It’s the fucking Mona Lisa of film.”

“Your taste in movies frightens me,” Jonas informs him. He can feel Mikael frown dramatically against the side of his chest, his temple pressed up against Jonas’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be pretentious.” 

Jonas makes it a solid fifteen minutes into the movie before he says, “What the actual fuck is this?”

“You’re interrupting the art,” Mikael says, but he tilts his head up, brushing his lips against Jonas teasingly.

“There’s no plot,” Jonas argues softly, kissing Mikael again. “The acting is terrible.” He kisses him a little more heavily, one thumb brushing along the curve of Mikael’s ear. “Don’t get me started on the special effects.”

Mikael moves up to meet Jonas’s lips, gentle, with the weight of his tongue behind it, and he pulls back just enough so that Jonas can still feel his lips as he says, “Not everything has to make  _ sense _ .” He pushes Jonas onto his back on the couch and they fall into what is possibly the softest makeout session of Jonas’s entire life, hands gently running through hair and all lips, slow, like they have all the time in the world, and Jonas is so caught up in it that he doesn’t notice at first. Honestly, he blames Mikael’s stupid fucking lips.

“Hi, Mikael,” Isak says weakly.

Mikael and Jonas both shoot up on the couch at the sound of his voice, still half tangled up in each other. 

It’s not how Jonas pictured coming out to the boys, like, at all. He’d imagined that it’d be similar to when Isak came out, just him saying that he likes Mikael, and maybe Magnus would crack a few jokes and Mahdi would make fun of Mags and Isak would offer the best moral support he could ask for, and that’d be it. He definitely didn’t picture Isak, pale and grimacing, holding a case of beer in his left hand, Magnus behind him open-mouthed and Mahdi with his eyebrows raised up to the heavens. He didn’t picture that there’d be screaming and sharks falling from the sky still on the screen behind them. He didn’t picture, really, that Mikael would be there at  _ all _ , much less that he’d be halfway on top of Jonas with his tongue lightly tracing the inside of Jonas’s mouth when the boys found out.

“Hey,” Mikael squeaks. 

Isak narrows his eyes at Jonas and juts his chin out, and Jonas stays silent and blank for a second.

“Fuck,” he hears himself say suddenly. “This is not how I wanted you to find out.” 

There’s a quiet moment, all of them just staring. Magnus and Mahdi are both looking to Isak for guidance.

“Mik,” Jonas whispers, “please  _ get the fuck off of me _ .”

Mikael seems to realize then that they’re still pressed together, and he blushes enough that it’s completely visible, squirming to sit up and elbowing Jonas’s ribs in the process. 

Magnus is the first one out of the boys to talk, of course. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he says, but he’s not angry, he’s got the biggest smile on his face and he pushes back his hair with two hands. “This is happening  _ again _ ? You’re ditching us for weeks and acting all shady and we think you’re fucking  _ Emma _ and then it turns out that you’re hooking up with some cool older guy from Bakka -- oh, holy fuck, how did I not see this coming? Eskild told me that gay people always find each other. That’s how he met Isak, you know.”

“That’s… not how we met but okay,” Isak mumbles.

Magnus flops down next to Mikael. “Relax, Jonas. I’m not going to ask who’s the man and who’s the woman again. I’m better than that now.” He pauses, considers them carefully, and then leans in to ask, “Who’s the Isak and who’s the Even?”

“We’re definitely not answering that,” Jonas says firmly.

“We,” Mahdi repeats. “You’re a we?”

“Isak, why aren’t you flipping shit?” Magnus asks, whipping his head around. “Oh -- fuck me with a pair of scissors. You already knew?”

Isak winces. “Uh, yeah.”

“Mahdi?” Magnus whines. “Did you know?”

“No,” Jonas jumps in. “Just Isak. And I only told him a few days ago.”

“Even knows, too,” Mikael says quietly, his blush now faded. “Plus the boys.” 

Magnus groans, putting his head in his hands. “Mahdi and I are  _ always _ the last to know.”

“To be fair,” Jonas says, “I’m telling Eva soon. None of the girls know.”

Magnus nods. “That makes me feel, like, a little better.”

“I’m so glad,” Isak says dryly. Jonas shoots him a look -- a  _ don’t-fuck-with-Magnus-this-is-serious  _ look, and Isak shuts up. 

“Are you guys, uh, staying?” Jonas asks awkwardly.

Magnus starts nodding in the same instant that Mahdi says, “Nah, we’ll head out,” and glares at Magnus.

“Actually,” Mikael says, “I’m going to head home. My mom needs help with dinner.”

“Okay, bye,” Jonas tells him quietly. Mikael glances over at him and there’s question that hangs heavy between them. Do they kiss goodbye? It’s what they usually do, but there’s Magnus on one side of them and Isak and Mahdi across the room, but Jonas feels a little lighter without the pressure of lying to his best friends, so he loops his arm behind Mikael’s head and kisses him softly, just once, feeling Mikael try to contain his smile. 

“Bye.”

Mikael leaves with his fingers just barely tugging at the back of the Jonas’s collar as he walks to the front door, and Jonas watches him leave, watches how he always leans a little to the left from that time he broke his leg when he was twelve, watches how gentle he is when he turns the doorknob, and Jonas thinks that he could watch Mikael just  _ exist  _ forever.

As soon as Mikael’s gone, Isak, Mahdi, and Magnus all burst into laughter.

“Jesus Christ, bro,” Mahdi groans through his giggles.

Jonas looks at all of them doubled over, confused, and asks, “What?”

“You are,” Magnus gasps, “so  _ fucking  _ whipped for him.”

**MCDONALD’S**

Eva’s first reaction to Jonas telling her that he’s dating a boy is to grab a french fry off of his plate and chew slowly.

“You’re not surprised,” Jonas notes.

She shrugs. “I’m bisexual. I have a girlfriend. My best friend’s a lesbian. Your best friend is gay. His boyfriend is pansexual. Honestly, I’m more surprised when someone’s straight.”

“I mean… that’s reasonable.”

She smiles brightly at him, and there’s something nostalgic about it, something that makes him think of autumn leaves and campfires and all the mistakes he made, and he feels safe in the knowledge that it’s all worked out. 

“So,” Eva says, leaning forward conspiratorially, “tell me about him.”

“He’s…” Jonas huffs out a laugh. “He’s amazing.”

Her smile becomes softer and she asks, “Are you falling in love with him yet?”

Jonas has to stop at that question. Love’s a word that he thinks about rarely. He knows he likes him, knows that when he’s around Mikael he feels safer, comfortable, settled in his body and in his life. He knows that he would sit through a fucking Sharknado marathon for Mikael. He knows that Mikael just  _ fits _ in his life like nobody else ever has. And there’s his answer.

“I think so,” he says gently.

Eva smiles with her teeth and grabs his hand, linking their fingers together with familiarity. “I’m so fucking happy for you, Jonas,” she says.

He nods back at her and squeezes her hand. “I’m happy for you, too.”

“Oh, my God!” Eva exclaims suddenly. She pulls her hands away from Jonas and brings them up to her cheeks, eyes bright and wide and glowing. “Are you going to keep up the Instagram tradition?”

“The… what?” Jonas looks at her blankly.

“Isak came out to everyone by posting a picture of him and Even,” Eva says, counting on her fingers. “Vilde came out on Insta by posting a picture of her at pride. And Noora and I came out to everyone on Insta with a picture of the two of us.”

Jonas blinks. He hadn’t ever really considered  _ coming out _ to people at school, people he doesn’t really care about or ever really even think about, but now that Eva mentions it, he realizes that it is kind of a thing. 

“Oh,” he says eventually. “I mean, if Mikael’s okay with it, then I guess.” 

“Mikael?” Eva almost yells. “Oh, fuck, he’s cute.”

Jonas grins. “Yeah,” he admits. “He is.”

**Jonas:** Would you be okay if I posted a picture of you on my Instagram

**Mikael:** awww you wanna go public

**Jonas:** Don’t make this a big deal

**Mikael:** yes but only if it means we’re officially boyfriends

**Jonas:** Are we not already

**Mikael:** just saying!

**Mikael:** also send me a screenshot when ur done so i can see it

**Jonas:** Fine

**Mikael:** thx boyfriend ;-)

Eva keeps eating his fries while he scrolls through the filters. The picture itself is easy enough to decide on -- his favorite picture he’s taken of Mikael. It’s in his bedroom, late afternoon, Mikael shirtless on his side with sunlight and sheets just touching gently on his skin, glowing in the light and his middle finger stuck up at Jonas to cover his face. It’s cute as fuck and makes him smile with his whole soul. He decides that it doesn’t need any adjustments, and he just adds the caption.

_ Not friends. _

**JONAS’S**

**Eskild:** You’re all invited to the first official GAY GATHERING!!!!!!!

**Isak:** Eskild no

**Even:** Eskild YES

**Eskild:** Baby gay you haven’t even heard what it is yet :((((

**Isak:** Only a few of the people in here are even gay

**Eskild:** Fine

**Eskild:** Since Isak is being a little bitch, you’re all invited to the first official MLM MEETING!!!!!!!!!!!

**Isak:** That makes it sound like a club

**Eskild:** ………… anyways, it’s tomorrow night at 19 so clear your schedules.

**Eskild:** I will provide an apartment, Elias will pick a movie, Jonas is in charge of music, and Mikael and Even will cook

**Eskild:** Please RSVP

**Isak:** Wtf what will I do

**Eskild:** You just sit on the counter and look pretty

**Isak:** Fuck you

**Even:** We’ll be there, Eskild <3

**Isak:** Fuck you too

**Jonas:** Sounds chill we’ll be there

**Mikael:** elias if you pick a shit movie then jonas and i WILL leave

**Jonas:** You made me watch Sharknado

**Mikael:** IT’S NOT A SHIT MOVIE

**Mikael:** omg we never finished it

**Mikael:** im omw do you want me to bring popcorn

**Jonas:** Yeah

**Elias:** Don’t make plans in the group message

**Eskild:** Hello my dear when are you going to be here

**Elias:** I’m playing basketball with Sana for a bit but I’ll be over soon

**Mikael:** lmao hypocrite

**Isak:** DON’T MAKE PLANS IN THE GROUP MESSAGE

**Even:** Baby

**Even:** I forgot my key

**Isak:** DON’T CALL ME BABY IN THE GROUP MESSAGE

**Even:** BABY LET ME IN

**Jonas:** BABY

**Eskild:** BABY

**Mikael:** BABY

**Elias:** BABY

**Isak:** No head for a week

**Isak:** Fuck

**Isak:** That was only supposed to be for Even

**Isak:** I hate you all

**THE KOLLEKTIV**

Jonas knocks on the door of the kollektiv with Mikael’s arm slung around his shoulder, the two of them armed with a bag of vegetables and a killer Spotify playlist.

The door flies open before he gets the chance to knock for the third time. “Jonas! Mikael!” Eskild says dramatically, sweeping his arm inside to greet them. “Come in, come in. Elias is here, but Isak and Even are late. Predictably.”

“I’ll wait until Ev gets here to start cooking,” Mikael says with a grin at Eskild. 

“Yeah, oh, my God, that’s fine.” Eskild leads them into the apartment, chattering on about how excited he is that they’re here. 

Elias is sitting on the couch watching some cartoon. He smiles fondly when Eskild approaches him, pausing in his rambling just barely long enough to press a kiss into Elias’s lips before he flutters over to the kitchen to get them all drinks.

“Hey,” Mikael says, landing beside Elias on the couch and pulling Jonas down with him. “What movie are we watching later?”

“Something with lots of explosions.”

Mikael grins. “Oh,  _ fuck _ yes.”

“Did you guys finish Sharknado?” Elias asks, leaning forward on his knees so he can address Jonas around Mikael.

Jonas huffs out a laugh as Mikael says, “No, because someone kept  _ complaining. _ ”

They hear Isak’s voice before they see him. “It is  _ not  _ my fucking fault we’re late,” he says, bursting through the door. “ _ You _ are the one who had to fix your fucking hair like three separate times, and then forgot some random ingredient, or whatever.”

“Eskild,” Even calls, the both of them walking into the living room, Isak’s arms crossed over his chest and Even following, looking amused, “back me up. Hair is important.”

“My favorite son!” Eskild comes bustling out of the kitchen with his arms open wide. Jonas is expecting him to hug Isak, but he bypasses Isak entirely and wraps Even up tightly. He turns to Isak after a long while of rocking Even back and forth. “And my other son, my baby Jesus.” 

“If you hug me right now, I swear to God,” Isak threatens. He lets Eskild hug him anyways.

Even glances over at all of them squashed onto the couch with a warm smile on his face. “This is cozy,” he comments.

“We should start cooking,” Mikael says. He taps his fingers on Jonas’s thigh. “Can we listen to your playlist?”

Jonas pulls it up, plugs it into the speakers and hits play before joining Isak, Even, and Mikael in the kitchen. The music’s shit that they’re all into, lots of Run DMC and NWA and Nas and Isak and Jonas sit perched on the counter rapping verses back at one another while their boyfriends cook.

“Jonas,” Mikael calls from the stove, reaching out his arm, “come taste this and tell us what it’s missing.”

Jonas swings his legs off the counter and pushes himself off so he can get over to where Mikael’s cooking. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he says, wiping the pasta sauce off of his chin, and Mikael laughs. “More salt, though.”

He’d forgotten that he’d snuck Mikael’s favorite guilty pleasure song onto the playlist, but when it comes on, Mikael freezes, eyes widening and Jonas laughs.

“It’s your song!” Even says, nudging Mikael with his shoulder.

If Jonas had to pick his favorite moment from the entire night, it’d be this one -- Mikael singing  _ No Scrubs  _ into a wooden spoon in the middle of Eskild’s kitchen, pulling Jonas in to dance sloppily, Even singing the backing vocals and Isak looking like he’s about to slam his fucking head in the cabinet door. 

Getting dinner actually ready to eat and on the table takes a lot longer than they all expect because Even and Mikael get into a heated debate about the merits of adding garnishes to the dishes, and Isak and Jonas start sparring with forks until Isak draws blood and Eskild yells at them, and Elias can’t finish setting the table because Eskild keeps grabbing him to dance along with the music. It’s a mess, but eventually they all pile huge portions of food on their plates and start eating. 

**JONAS’S**

He’s running late on his way home from the skatepark and he would blame Mahdi for challenging him except he know’s it’s his fault, so he just shoots off a text to Mikael to apologize and let him know that he’ll be home soon.

When he finally does walk into his living room, it’s a surreal experience.

Mikael is sitting cross-legged on the floor with Thea, holding a bottle of nail polish up to the light and frowning at it. 

“I feel like this isn’t  _ deep  _ enough, you know?” he says, and Thea nods like she does, in fact, know. She rifles through a box, tiny bottles clattering against each other, and eventually pulls out a dark wine red and offers it to Mikael. 

“More like this?” she asks. Jonas watches from the doorway as Mikael takes it excitedly. 

“Oh, perfect,” he exclaims. He holds out his left hand and starts to paint his nails.

Thea cranes her neck to look at his handiwork, and says, “God, you’re so good at that. I always get mine all over the skin.”

Mikael just hums in response without looking up from his hands. “You want me to do them for you? That blue from earlier would look so fucking good.”

“Hey, Jonas,” Thea says casually, noticing him standing in the doorway. 

“What do you think?” Mikael waggles his fingers at Jonas. 

He walks over and feels a little like he’s breaking a bubble when he steps next to Mikael, but he runs his hand through Mikael’s hair gently anyways, just because he can’t bear not to. Mikael leans his head against the side of Jonas’s leg.

“It looks good. Are you coming to my room?”

Mikael shakes his head. “Not yet. I’m gonna paint Thea’s nails.”

It’s a little weird, actually, how incredibly natural it feels. Jonas is just sitting and scrolling through his phone and he can hear Mikael’s voice talking low, low enough that he can’t make out the words but can just feel the rhythm, and then Thea laughs. That’s a sound he hasn’t heard in a long time. 

Eventually, Mikael comes back to his room and flops down on the bed on his stomach. “I love your sister,” he announces.

“You do?” 

“Yeah,” Mikael says. He flips over on his back and stares up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. “She’s chill. And she has good taste in nail polish.”

His moms get home at some point, takeout bags rustling and calling out greetings into the house. Jonas is sitting up in his bed watching a movie and Mikael’s stretched out beside him, reading one of Jonas’s old essays on the outdated and oppressive nature of the police force. 

Mamma calls him for dinner and he and Mikael emerge with their hands tangled together and Jonas is smiling, face turned towards Mikael.

“Did you two finally get together?” His mom says it so casually that he doesn’t even really recognize the question at first, just blinks at her. Mikael squeezes his hand, obviously waiting for Jonas to answer, but his smile is an answer all in itself. 

**PENETRATOR CHRIS’S**

If you told Jonas Noah Vasquez a year ago that he’d be standing in Penetrator Chris’s house with his boyfriend, he would have just stared at you blankly and taken another hit, but here he is, and Mikael’s hand is pressed against the small of his back as they make their way through the crowd. 

“Whose fucking house is this?” Mikael yells from behind him.

“Penetrator Chris,” Jonas shouts back, and Mikael snorts in his ear.

They’re pushing their way through bodies and arms and drinks and skin, because that’s all there is at these things. Jonas hasn’t seen anyone he knows yet - it’s one of those rare times that almost everyone arrives separately instead of fashionably late and causing a commotion. 

Jonas is nothing if not a good guest. So, when he sees Chris, standing and laughing with some guys he’s smoked with before, or bought from before, he goes over to say hi.

“Chris,” he says as Chris pulls him into a one-armed hug.

“My man.” Chris steps into his shoulder for a second, claps him on the back and nods to Mikael. “Who’s this?”

He looks at Mikael appraisingly, up and down, his gaze almost  _ predatory _ , and Jonas steps back towards Mikael. As much as he’s chill with Chris, the guy’s a dick. 

Jonas grabs Mikael’s hand. “My boyfriend.”

“He’s cute,” Chris smirks. “Do you have any good shit for me?”

“I’m just here to stay hi, so talk to Mahdi if you want something.” The trick to dealing with Chris, he’s learned, is to be polite and curt, smiling, but still putting a bit of steel into his handshakes. It’s worked so far.

Mikael’s shoulder brushes against Jonas’s. 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you around, man,” Chris says. He starts nodding his head to the beat, his gaze slipping back over to his friends, and then he suddenly snaps back to Jonas. “Hey, let me know if you see Eva, yeah?”

Jonas is already walking away when he turns his head back to tell Chris to fuck off, that Eva’s got a girlfriend and she can do better than him anyways, but Chris is already distracted by something across the room, so he just tightens his hand around Mikael’s and leads him deeper into the party.

“You’re a dealer?” Mikael asks in his ear, gently, just curious breath brushing against his earlobe.

“Nah,” Jonas says. He tilts his head back towards Mikael’s. “Or, well, just casually. Like if Mahdi has something that he needs to move I’ll take it, or if someone I know needs me to.” He shrugs.

“That’s hot.”

Jonas barks out a short laugh, turning to look at Mikael in the crowded hallway that they’ve found themselves in. “What?”

“Criminal activity is hot,” Mikael says. He leans into Jonas -- tentative, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to in this situation. Jonas closes the distance and kisses him. 

“Jonas!” 

He pulls away from Mikael, trying not to get distracted by the way that Mikael’s eyes are still closed, lashes dark and dusting on his cheek. Eva’s standing with one arm around Noora’s waist and the other reaching out to Jonas.

“Hi, Eva,” he says, unable to resist the smile that comes across his face when he sees her. Mikael’s fingertips brush along the back of his neck as he pulls his hands away and Eva hops towards Jonas to hug him, warm and tipsy.

“Hi, oh, my God, you look great. And Mikael! Hi!” She lets go of Jonas and flings her arms around Mikael’s neck. “You guys are amazing together and I love you both. Well, Jonas a little more, but just because I know him better. I’m sure I love you just as much.” Her hand presses flat against Mikael’s cheek for a second until Noora pulls her away.

“Hi, Jonas, Mikael. We’re going to go get some water now,” she says, pointedly, looking at Eva.

Eva lets herself be pulled away by her girlfriend, calling, “Okay! Bye! Love you! Isak’s over in the big room!”

Mikael blinks, obviously still recovering from the whirlwind that is Eva Mohn. 

“I kind of love her,” he says, his voice hushed in awe. Jonas just laughs. He can’t help but lean into Mikael’s chest a little, can’t help but look at him and watch him break into a smile, and he grins back. They stand there, staring at each other, before Mikael speaks again. “We should go find everyone else.”

They make their way back to the main entrance of the house, and Jonas thinks he can hear Chris Berg’s voice above the crowd, singing along to whatever shitty pop song is playing. He shoots a nod in Sana’s direction, and then another in the general area of some more guys that he barely knows outside of drug shit. Mikael lets go of his hand suddenly and leaps dramatically into Adam’s arms, and then everyone’s there, like the party is  _ theirs _ , all their friends grabbing each other and yelling and cheering and bouncing around. 

Being at a party as a couple is weird. Jonas has done it before, sat back in the shadows with a girl on his lips, which is nice, but this is almost nicer, with all their friends around them. He sits back on a couch with his arm around Mikael and watches.

He and Mikael are different from the rest of the couples around them. They’re not as energetic as Elias and Eskild, who are the center of attention, glitter and drinks tipped back and laughing into each other’s ears as they dance around. They’re not as dramatic as Isak and Even - Jonas literally witnessed Even bound across the room earlier to kiss Isak just because of the  _ time _ , for fuck’s sake. They’re not as cute as Noora and Eva, the two of them dancing with arms around each other’s necks and Noora’s head thrown back in red-ringed laughter as Eva giggles in her ear. But they’re them. They’re Jonas and Mikael. They’re comfortable.

And later that night, when they make it back to Jonas’s and crash in his bed, Mikael landing with his head on Jonas’s shoulder and both of them fully clothed, Mikael whispers his name.

“Yeah?”

There’s silence, the rising and falling of their chests matching up in the stillness of his bedroom. 

“I’m falling in love with you,” Mikael says softly. There’s no nerves in his voice, just certainty, the muscles on his face rustling Jonas’s t-shirt.

And that moment, right there, is the first time that Jonas knows it for sure. He’s felt it, with Ingrid and Eva and with his moms and Thea and Isak and the skatepark and it’s different every single time, but this is the first time with  _ Mikael _ , and that makes all the difference in the world.

It’s the first time that he knows he’s in love with Mikael.

**HEI BRISKEBY**

The video starts off like it always does, or, at least, like it has since Yousef went to to Turkey and Even fell back into the group’s embrace. Mikael, Adam, Elias, Even, and Mutta are all sitting on the couch in the Bakkoush’s living room, squeezing in tightly and leaning on each other.

“Hi everyone!” Elias says cheerfully, leaning towards the camera. “Today we’re going to be doing the boyfriend tag.”

There’s a quick cut, thanks to Jonas and Mikael’s joint editing skills, to a zoomed in shot of Mikael wiggling his eyebrows at the person behind the camera, and then the Hei Briskeby title screen title screen takes over for a few seconds.

“So,” Elias starts. He wraps his arms around the boys beside him, one draped over Even’s shoulders and the other over Adam’s. “Mutta and Adam are both sadly single and are here for amusement purposes, but the rest of us brought our boyfriends. Boyfriends, introduce yourselves for the camera.”

The camera turns to Eskild, who’s perched on the edge of a chair facing the couch.

He looks a little taken aback, but it’s all an act, and he bats his eyelashes. “Oh, me? Hi, I’m Eskild, I’m Elias’s boyfriend and I’m amazing. We’ve been together for like two months now, I think.”

“Really?” Elias asks, offscreen.

“Yeah,” Eskild says. He looks at Elias and there’s something in his face that immediately becomes more genuine, no longer putting on a front for the camera, and he softens. “We got together right after Pride, and it’s almost the end of August now. So two months.”

Elias’s voice drifts in again from behind the camera’s lens. “That’s so cute.”

“Okay, shut up,” Even says. There’s a slapping noise, but the source can’t be seen - presumably, it’s Even hitting Elias’s arm off his shoulder. “Mine now.”

The camera pans over to Isak, settling in on where he’s sitting on the ground and leaning up against Eskild’s legs, wearing the same shirt that Even wore the first time he was in a Hei Briskeby video.

Isak waves awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the camera. “Uh, I’m Isak,” he mumbles, “and I’m Even’s boyfriend, I guess.”

Even snorts. “You  _ guess _ ?”

“Fuck off,” Isak complains, letting a smile sneak through on his lips. “We don’t usually use the word boyfriend.”

“That’s Isak, he’s the man of my life and I’m incredibly in love with him,” Even says matter-of-factly, his voice strong and Isak narrows his eyes at him.

Mutta’s voice rises from offscreen, teasing, “Oh, look, he’s blushing!” The rest of the boys all burst into laughter and here they’ve placed a zoomed in clip of Isak rolling his eyes, looped over the teasing voices from behind the camera.

“You’re all terrible people,” Isak says crankily. He finally turns his head to face the camera fully. “Jonas, give me the camera so I can film you.” 

The camera shifts and then cuts to shows Jonas, leaning comfortably in a chair behind a tripod that’s now empty.

“I’m Jonas,” he says plainly. “I’m Mikael’s boyfriend.”

Eskild makes a noise of displeasure from offscreen. “Uh,  _ hello _ , you have to say more than that. Tell a fun fact about yourself.”

“The fuck?” Jonas raises one hand in an obvious question. “I don’t know any fun facts.”

The camera wobbles in Isak’s inexperienced hands and then zooms in on Jonas’s eyebrows, and he speaks in a different voice, deep, like he’s narrating a nature show or something. “Jonas likes weed, skateboarding, and Mikael. He hates capitalism and wool socks.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s accurate,” Jonas says, smiling back at Isak.

The video cuts to zoom of Elias’s hands clapping in instruction.

“Okay, focus!” he says, camera solidly focused back on the boys on the couch. “We’re starting. Jonas, come sit here. Mikael, pick.”

Everyone else moves off the couch and crowds together on the floor, facing the couch and leaving room for Jonas to come sit next to Mikael. Jonas crosses his legs and sits sideways so he can look at Mikael, and Mikael reaches his hand into a bowl and pulls out a piece of paper.

“Oh, this is good,” he says, grinning down at the piece of paper in his hand. He flicks his eyes up to Jonas. “What does your family think of me?”

“They like you better than me,” Jonas answers without hesitation.

Adam coughs dramatically. “Sounds fake.”

“I swear,” Jonas laughs, “my moms will not shut up about him. They’re always like, oh, how’s Mikael doing, when’s he coming for dinner, are you seeing Mikael today. And my sister loves him. She pretends like she doesn’t but they literally hang out without me sometimes.” 

Isak’s voice is muffled from his place behind the camera. “That’s fucking embarrassing,” he says.

“It’s true, though,” Mikael smirks. “I’m everyone’s favorite now.”

There’s a little portion of time that’s cut out, so that it’s just Jonas reading from his own piece of paper. “Oh, shit.”

He spins around quickly, facing away from Mikael, looking a little beyond the camera where Isak is sitting.

“Okay,” Jonas says. “Now that you can’t see, what’s my eye color?”

Mikael answers confidently and without hesitation. “Blue.”

“Nope,” Jonas says, smiling proudly.

“What?” Mikael shrieks dramatically. He pops up onto his knees and tries to lean over to look into Jonas’s eyes, but Jonas wiggles away, laughing.

“They’re green, oh my God.”

Mikael wraps both arms around him, wrestling Jonas into the couch. “No, they’re not!”

“Hold on,” Elias says, standing, and the boys all gather around to look at Jonas’s eyes as Mikael pulls him up from the couch.

“Isak,” Even calls, “bring the camera over here so we can show everyone.”

The video cuts again, this time to Jonas’s eye, zoomed in, Mikael’s thumb and pointer finger pulling open his eyelid so that the iris is completely visible.

“They’re blue,” Mikael insists.

Isak zooms out to show everyone standing, crowded in front of Jonas. Mikael has both hands on Jonas’s face.

“Green,” Elias says, nodding like he has the final word.

“No,” Eskild says slowly, tilting his head to get a better angle. “I really think they’re blue.”

Mutta hums in disagreement and then says uncertainly, “I feel like they’re kind of gray?”

“Gray isn’t an option,” Adam points out.

“Okay,” Isak says, interrupting whatever’s about to come out of Mikael’s open mouth. “I’ve known Jonas for ten fucking years. His eyes are green.”

“Thank you,” Jonas nods.

“No, but, like, it isn’t just green or blue,” Even says. He bites at his lip in concentration, staring at Jonas’s face. “There’s an infinite amount of colors between that, so his eyes are both. Or neither.”

Mikael takes his eyes off of Jonas to turn a judgemental gaze onto Even. “What… the fuck does that mean?”

“Don’t ask him,” Isak mumbles.

“Whatever,” Elias announces. “It’s our turn now.” 

Elias pulls Eskild over so that the two of them can sit on the couch, Jonas and Mikael taking their spots on the floor as everyone else sits down. Mikael and Jonas are sitting close enough that their shoulders overlap. They’re both wearing black t-shirts and through the screen, it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

“Okay,” Eskild says, pursing his lips and reading off of a piece of paper. “Oh my God. Don’t answer this honestly, holy shit, okay.”

“Is it the annoying one?” Elias asks. He nudges Eskild’s leg with his knee.

“Yes,” Eskild pouts, folding up the piece of paper. “Be gentle.”

Elias grins. “Read it out, though, so everyone can hear.”

“What do you find annoying about me?” Eskild sighs out.

“Sometimes,” Elias begins, his hand reaching over to pat Eskild’s thigh comfortingly, “you drool when you sleep.”

There’s a moment where Eskild just stares at him blankly, and the boys are all silent on the floor, Adam tucking in his lips to keep from laughing, and then Eskild says, “I’m never sleeping again.”

“It’s cute, though!” Elias argues. “The only part that’s annoying is when it gets on my arm or something.”

Eskild shakes his head. “Yeah, no, I’m never sleeping again. Thanks.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re still cute.” Elias’s fingers tap a few times on Eskild’s leg and he changes the subject by asking his own question. “Where was our first date?”

Eskild tilts his head, pretending to think. “Does the time you woke up hungover on my couch and I hit on you count?”

“Literally no.”

“Fine,” Eskild says. “We met up and went to the park and drank wine and had a picnic.”

Mikael’s voice drifts up from his place on the floor. “Goals.”

Jonas pulls away from Mikael to look at him, furrowing his eyebrows. “Shitty wine in a park is your goal? Fuck, I’ve wasted so much money, then.”

“You’re so rude,” Mikael frowns.

“Moving on.” Elias says as he pushes Eskild off the couch and they fall onto the floor, tangled up in each other. “It’s time for the soulmates to go.”

On the floor, Elias is halfway on Eskild and halfway on Mutta, and Even and Isak stand to take their place on the couch.

“We’re so good at shit like this,” Even says happily, tucking his feet under Isak’s legs. “I literally know everything about Isak.”

Isak just blinks at him, entirely unimpressed. “You forgot my last name once.”

“In my defense,” Even yells over the sound of everyone laughing, “In my  _ defense _ I was really high and we’re basically married. Isak Bech Næsheim has a nice ring to it.”

“Fucking disgusting,” Isak tells him, but there’s no malice behind it.

Even just smiles and then says, “Okay, here’s my question for you. Do we have any inside jokes?”

“Kardemomme!” Isak answers immediately, and Even leans towards him in laughter, eyes almost all the way closed.

The screen is suddenly full of Mutta, confused with his mouth parted and his eyes narrowed, mouthing  _ kardemomme _ . When the video returns to show the entire group, Mutta’s in the corner resting his head in his hands.

Isak’s laughter trickles down until he can speak again, and he says, “We probably have too many inside jokes.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mikael scoffs. “Your conversations are like your own language.”

Even narrows his eyes at Mikael. “We’re not that bad.”

Mikael and Jonas both open their mouths at the exact same time as they say, “Yes, you are.”

“Okay,” Even says, staring at the two of them. “ _ That _ was pretty bad.”

Mikael laughs and lets his head drop onto Jonas’s shoulder. “Synchronized roasting is my new relationship goal,” he announces.

“Anyways,” Isak says, rolling his eyes away from Mikael and Jonas. “This one says 'Do I have any nicknames?'”

Even grins. “Easy. I call you baby. And Jonas calls you Issy sometimes.”

“There’s another one,” Isak says, narrowing his eyes.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Even shakes his head desperately, widening his eyes. “Nobody fucking calls you that! It doesn’t count!”

“Say it,” Isak says, raising his voice over Even. “Say it or we won’t win this game.”

“Just so everyone knows,” Even sighs after a pause, “I don’t approve of this and he made it up himself.”

“Fuck you, just say it,” Isak says. They all wait, the boys on the floor glancing around in apprehension.

“Fine,” Even says slowly. He closes his eyes like he’s preparing himself to say it. “I Double Dollar Sign.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence, and then the room erupts into howling laughter, everybody falling over each other and voices overlapping.

Eskild yells, “I’m disowning you,” shaking his head as Adam falls back flat on the floor.

“It’s my rapper name!” Isak says.

Shaking with laughter, Jonas speaks over Isak trying to defend the name, asking, “What the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you?”

“Dude….” Elias says slowly, “I love you, but that’s awful.”

“I Double Dollar Sign,” Isak says stubbornly.

Even leans back into the couch cushions and groans. “If you make me call you that during sex,” he warns, “we’re breaking up.”

“I Double Dollar Sign!” Isak howls, getting in the last word right before there’s another cut, this time to show the entire group facing the camera. 

Elias is in the center of the couch, Eskild standing behind the back of the couch, doubled over with his arms wrapped around Elias’s neck and his head pressed against Elias’s cheek. On the left, Mikael is beside Elias with his arm thrown around Jonas’s shoulders. Jonas has his arm around Mikael’s waist. The other side of Elias, the right side of the couch, Adam and Mutta are wedged against each other, Mutta clapping his hands rhythmically and Adam dancing along to the beat he’s making. Even’s on the floor between Mikael and Elias’s legs, Isak in his lap.

“So,” Elias says, looking at the camera, “we learned a lot today. Uh, nobody knows what color Jonas’s eyes are.”

“They’re green,” Jonas mumbles, at the exact same time that Mikael says, “Blue.”

“Eskild is super dramatic,” Elias continues.

“I’ll take that,” Eskild announces to everyone. “Loving yourself is key.”

Elias throws his hand to the side and hits Adam in the chest with his fingertips as he says, “Mutta and Adam are lonely and boring.” 

Adam pushes Elias off. “I’m not lonely  _ or  _ boring, thanks.”

“And Isak,” Elias finishes, “has a terrible, terrible rap name.”

Spinning around to glare at Elias, Isak scrunches up his nose and says, “I Double Dollar Sign is iconic.”

“So,” Elias says, clapping his hands together one last time, “I hope you enjoyed that. I know that we all did. Until next time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dkfjsdf and it's done!!!! i love jonas and mikael sm and im not ready to let them go
> 
> thanks to everybody who read this and left kudos and commented! i really loved this story and i hope yall did too <3
> 
> SO: the biggest shoutout to [faiza](https://henriksimans.tumblr.com/) for the [gifset](https://henriksimans.tumblr.com/post/162322929697/he-didnt) that started this whole thing and [zoe](http://stonebutchnoora.tumblr.com/) for deleting all my extra commas and leaving me the cutest notes <3
> 
> the tumblr post for this is linked below so reblog it if u want!
> 
> uhhh quick Me Update(tm) im still working with dreamers and sit me still but i am also writing a new au??? that's going to be really fun and painful????? so stay tuned my babies ;-)

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](https://lesbovilde.tumblr.com/) ! love always <3
> 
> tumblr post for this fic is [here](https://lesbovilde.tumblr.com/post/163395807835/sitting-on-the-fences-chapters-33-words-25754)


End file.
